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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26393518">Riddles of the Past</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASlightObsessionOfThings/pseuds/ASlightObsessionOfThings'>ASlightObsessionOfThings</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Igotmybearhands/pseuds/Igotmybearhands'>Igotmybearhands</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Development, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Female Character, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Season/Series 05, Slow Burn, Smut, world building</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:08:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>103,081</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26393518</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASlightObsessionOfThings/pseuds/ASlightObsessionOfThings, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Igotmybearhands/pseuds/Igotmybearhands</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After suffering the tragic loss of their pack and family in a bloody massacre, Aurora and Marisol spend years travelling the country in search for answers and a new home. Their journey leads them to Beacon Hills, where they decide to keep their true identity a secret while they try to join Scott McCall's pack, in hopes of starting a new family. However, tensions and suspicions rise among the pack as others begin to distrust Marisol and Aurora's intentions. Meanwhile, a threat looms on the horizon, silently creeping on the two friends and their newfound family.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lydia Martin/Jordan Parrish, Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Malia Tate/Original Female Character(s), Peter Hale/Original Female Character(s), Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Introduction: Somewhere in Delaware</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: We do NOT own any of the teen wolf characters nor any of the story rights. Changes have been made to the series story line as we felt unsatisfied with some character endings.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello to everyone who has clicked to check out our humble little story. Well, not little. This is a labor of love that has gone from a simple little idea and turned into an on again/off again project that we have worked on for the better part of three years.</p><p>Firstly, yes there is an explicit rating for the smut, and fair warning, it takes a while till it comes up, but we swear, it’s worth it. It is…<i>spicy</i>. If you are here just for that, we will keep an updated list of which chapters have spicy scenes.</p><p>Secondly, we hope you are ready for the long slow burn we have set up. Expect a fair share of character and plot development and we mean it, it’s a <i>slow burn</i> for the endgame.</p><p>Smut Chapters:<br/>Chapter 15 - Aurora/Peter<br/>Chapter 18 - Aurora/Peter<br/>Chapter 20 - Aurora/Peter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She had hardly recognized the place when she’d first arrived. It had always been clean and organized, everything in its place and each room spotless, but now the scene before her told a different story. The furniture lay strewn across the floor, most of it broken and splintered, pictures fallen from where they had previously hung on the walls, the glass smashed, and frames broken. The loud crunch of the broken glass followed her steps as she hurriedly ran through the house, searching for the girl and hoping she wasn’t too late.</p><p>After things had escalated at the bonfire meeting, she knew the next targets would be the girl and her parents, and so she’d ran as fast as her legs could carry her, praying to whatever deity might have been listening. She found her in the study and her heart nearly stopped. The girl was alive, but drenched in blood and seriously wounded. Next to her lay two mutilated bodies, hardly breathing, and barely clinging onto life. The girl clutched onto them, her hands over their wounds in an attempt to somehow stop the bleeding, but there was no way that they were going to last the night. Death hung in the air, and it was only a matter of time before they succumbed to their wounds.</p><p>“Did you know?” The girl asked through her sobs, unable to meet her eyes. “Did you know he would come after them?”</p><p>“Yes.” the woman admitted, “At least...I suspected he would...after that night in the woods.”</p><p> “Did you know?” the girl asked again, anger creeping into her words, her eyes now lifted and searching the woman’s eyes for answers. “Did you know this would happen?”</p><p>The woman crept closer, crouching before the girl and her parents, examining them as a way to avoid the look of pain in the girl’s eyes, and the accusation behind them. She looked the couple over, wishing for a miracle, but they had been slashed through, left to a slow and agonizing end as they bled out in the arms of their only daughter. She reached out slowly to grasp one of their arms, but a low growl from the girl stopped her from moving forward.</p><p>“Answer me, Aurora.” The girl held her stare, pleading for something that could tell her why any of this had happened to her, why any of this was still happening.</p><p>“I knew...it was a possibility.” Not knowing what else to say, Aurora once again reached for the couple’s arms, ignoring the second growl from the girl until it slowly faded out as she witnessed the black climb up the woman’s veins, as her parents’ breathing became easier.</p><p> “What are you doing?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.</p><p>“I’m taking some of the pain away.” Aurora glanced up at the girl and her eyes shone in her newly acquired red. “It’s a trick we can do....I’ll teach you how, along with everything else I know.”</p><p> “Your eyes...how did...they’re like his, like Moira’s.”</p><p>“An Alpha’s eyes.” Aurora nodded, shame and guilt hanging over her at her newfound status. “There is much you still have to learn and I will tell you everything, but right now, we need to leave.”</p><p>When the girl made no motion to move, Aurora insisted gently. “We can’t be here when the authorities show up.”</p><p> “I can’t leave my parents like this.” The girl argued, shaking her head as tears started to flow from her eyes once again.</p><p> “I know,” Aurora hesitated. “Which is why I think you should go and gather anything you want to take, or anything you think you might need. I’ll...I’ll take care of them.”</p><p> The girl shook her head once more, this time more aggressively and with a determination in her eyes. “You can’t… you can’t take them away from me. I won’t let you.” </p><p>Aurora looked at her, suddenly overcome by pity for the girl. It had only been one week for her. One week of this life, and already things had gone awry. She hadn’t even learned to properly shift yet, and now here she was, watching her parents die in her arms, unable to do anything to save them. “You shouldn’t have to do this.”</p><p> “They’re my parents, Aurora.” The girl looked at her, a pleading look in her eye. “I’m the <i>only</i> one who should.”</p><p> Aurora wanted to reach out and hold her. To comfort her as she had when she was growing up and would scrape her knees while running around at the family gatherings. She was still so young and fragile. None of this should have ever happened to her, least of all this. She already had to live with the attack that had changed her, she shouldn’t have to live with the death of her parents. “I should do it, as alpha. Please Marisol, let me do this for you.”</p><p>Marisol could only shake her head, her face glistening with the tears that fell down her cheeks. Aurora conceded, taking away as much pain as she could before standing up and leaving the room, giving Marisol and her parents some privacy.</p><p>From the other room, she could hear the soft whispers as Marisol bid her parents farewell, her quiet sobs as she tried to tell them she loved them. Aurora could feel the lump in her throat from the sob that threatened to escape, but she swallowed it, standing up straight and carrying on about her task. She could grieve for them later. For all of them.</p><p>She grabbed the biggest suitcase she could find in Marisol’s room and started to place as many clothes as she could fit in there, leaving room for anything Marisol might want to take with her. She collected necessities, and searched the rooms for their emergency cash, kept away in a safe in the master bedroom. Part of her felt guilty taking it, but the other part knew that if she and Marisol left without it, they wouldn’t last long on their own. It was then that she realized that with both her parents dead, Marisol was next in line to inherit a large sum of money that had been kept secret from the pack. They had never thought a day like this would come, and Moira had always agreed that the safest place to keep their wealth was with their emissaries. But now that money lay in the bank, stored away and waiting for someone to claim it. If they could access it, they would be able to leave and live freely. To start anew, away from this tragedy and away from their pain.</p><p>It was tempting, but Aurora knew that once the authorities arrived, they would be the first to get questioned and taking out that money would make them their number one suspects. She looked around, realizing that the scene in this household didn’t match the one a few miles away, where the pack had held their bonfire before being attacked. This looked like a break in, not a brutal animal attack. With that in mind, she started to throw things over, ripping them to shreds, and scratching the walls--anything to make the police think a bear could have done this. It wasn’t too far fetched, they lived right next to the woods after all. She moved from room to room, using her claws to leave a plausible trail, and releasing her anger and pain as she destroyed the walls, the furniture.</p><p>It was then that she paused, a wrenching pain in her chest spread as she listened to Marisol’s mom trying to say goodbye. She felt she owed them their privacy, but couldn’t help listening as her tears finally started to fall down her face.</p><p>“Shhh...it’s okay mamá. It’s okay.” She heard Marisol’s voice crack.</p><p>“We...didn’t...we are so...sorry.” Marisol’s mother struggled to speak, her voice hoarse as she tried to take deep breaths. “Perdóname, mija...perdóname.”</p><p>Aurora slowly turned the corner and watched as Marisol’s mother lifted a bloody hand to caress Marisol’s face, leaving it streaked with red. Marisol bowed her head, tears streaming harder and faster down her face, as she reached out to put her hand over her mother’s. “No...a mí...perdóname a mí.”</p><p>She reached her arms around her mother, her sobs no longer quiet, but loud and racking her body. She pulled her close to her chest, wrapping one hand around her head and the other around her back, holding her tightly, as her eyes started to glow bright gold. “I love you mamá...and I’m sorry...I’m sorry... I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Marisol continued to apologize to her mother, protracting her claws as Aurora had taught her, and running them through her mother’s back and into her heart. The combined sound of Marisol’s sobbing and her mother’s last breath, forced Aurora to the ground, tears streaming freely and her sobs escaping her as she held her head and cried.</p><p>Marisol lay her mother down, turning behind her as the hand of her father reached out to her, falling against her back, in an attempt to still comfort her despite it all. She took his hand, and brought it up to her face, kissing and crying into it, trying to hold it together, but being unable to look her father in the face.</p><p>“Mija…” His voice was tired and pained. “It’s okay...We understand...We know.” Marisol could only nod her head, still clutching onto his hand and breathing in his familiar scent, now mixed with the smell of his blood and that of her mother’s. He propped himself up, using what little energy he had left, and ran his thumb across her cheek, smiling softly at her. “I love you...and I am very proud to be your dad.”</p><p>“I...I lo...I love…” Marisol cried hard, unable to complete her sentence and unable to properly breath. Her heaving and sorrowful cries made Aurora’s heart break, and she could feel her pain, even from across the room. They had both lost everything, in a manner of hours, and now they had to face the world alone, without all those they held close to their hearts--without all those they had loved.</p><p>“Te amo, papá.” She was finally able to let out.</p><p>“Yo sé.” He nodded and smiled at her again, before reaching his other arm to her, and wrapping himself around her in a hug. “Yo sé.”</p><p>With one last loud cry, Marisol ran her claws through her father, feeling as the breath left his frame and he fell limp against her. She sobbed silently, her voice hoarse from her cries, and her energy depleted.</p><p>From the other side of the room, Aurora stood and turned to walk into the room, making her way over to Marisol, hoping to offer her any kind of consolation. She crouched down in front of her, gently removing her father’s arms around her and placing him on the floor next to her mother. She placed her hands on either side of Marisol’s face, lifting it gently toward her. It was then that she saw them, glowing bright and haunting her in a way she didn’t think could happen--Marisol’s eyes, once golden, now replaced with a brilliant and sorrowful blue.</p><p>Aurora stood abruptly and started to rummage around the room, searching with purpose.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Marisol asked, as she watched moving from place to place.</p><p>“Protocols were put in place should a disaster ever happen,” she explained as she searched for the right panel that would give way to a secret compartment. “Papers, finances, and…this.”</p><p>Marisol slowly moved away from her parents, who now lay next to each other. She brushed the hair out of their face and lay one last teary kiss to their foreheads before getting up to join Aurora. There in the compartment along with everything they needed to start a new life, was a photo album, with shining gold lettering that weaved across the cover reading, The Chosen Pack. Aurora’s hands shook as she traced her fingers over words.</p><p>“I’m sorry that this all happened.” She whispered distantly, and Marisol noticed the empty look in her eyes that spoke louder than Aurora’s words.</p><p>Almost as quickly as it had come, the look was gone, and Aurora was back to moving quickly and gathering up all the items left in the secret compartment. “We have to go. We can call the authorities on the way to the station.”</p><p>“I thought we couldn’t go to the authorities?” Marisol asked, as she followed Aurora around, picking up her suitcase and gathering all the important pictures and items that she deemed sentimental.</p><p>“I can’t. But you have to.” Aurora sighed, feeling guilty that the girl had just barely managed to deal with one terrible situation and now she had to push her into another one. “Your parents… they left behind quite a bit of money. Money that we can use to move forward...”</p><p>“Is that what all that paperwork is?” Marisol questioned, coming up behind Aurora as she rummaged through contracts and journals.</p><p>“Some of it, yes. But we can’t go get it right away because it will look suspicious. Which is why we need you to go to the police and tell them you came home and found them like this…”</p><p>“What will they do with me?”</p><p>“They’ll probably question you for a bit, but then they’ll look for your next of kin, which you don’t have...but according to this form right here...that’s me.”</p><p>Marisol looked over the paper Aurora had handed to her, reading it over and trying to take in everything that was coming out of Aurora’s mouth. An inheritance? Aurora as her legal guardian? She looked back at her parents, her sadness once again swelling inside of her. She’d hardly had time to say goodbye and now she had to go and lie to the police about what really happened. An animal attack wouldn’t get them the justice they deserved. She thought back to how much had happened in just one week, and how much she had been blind to her entire life. Werewolves, powers, emissaries, the shift. All of it real and her parents had been a part of it, and this whole time, she hadn’t known. At least not until it was too late.</p><p>“What if...he comes back?” Marisol asked, fear lingering in her voice as she asked the question.</p><p>Aurora turned to her, taking her hands and looking her straight in the eye. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore...about any of them. I took care of it...I took care of them.”</p><p>Marisol nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of her words and what she had done. And yet, it did not bring her the relief she craved, and it did not quell the suffering and pain in her heart. “Why did this happen?”</p><p>Aurora didn’t answer, but instead pulled out the last item from the wall, a thick leather bound journal. She opened it to the first page where the names of the man and woman on the floor were written, followed by a list of names and numbers that seemed like contacts. She took a moment to flip through it, eternally grateful for the information it held and that it gave her a sense of which direction to run to.</p><p>“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aurora and Marisol arrive to Beacon Hills and start to settle in to their new home. Discussions about what really drove Aurora to choose Beacon Hills in the first place.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Check out our tumblr account! </p>
<p>https://riddlesofbeaconhills.tumblr.com/post/629469017322782720/riddles-of-the-past</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beacon Hills, CA - Two Years Later</p>
<p>Marisol grunted as she set down a large box of plates on the kitchen counter. Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, she took a long drink as she looked around at her new surroundings. Fresh painted cabinets, new high-end appliances, granite countertops, and newly installed tile floor--everything was new and everything was big, and that meant more cleaning. Not that it really bothered Marisol, especially as she watched her small cat, Emy, run around exploring the new home, stopping every now and then to rub against the corner of a wall. <em>This is different</em>. Marisol wasn’t even sure how they’d been able to afford something like this.</p>
<p>“The couple that lived here before passed away in their bedroom.” Aurora interrupted, seemingly guessing Marisol’s thoughts. She set down another box on the counter and sighed. “They were older and died of natural causes, but death does wonders at bringing the price down--not to mention my excellent negotiation skills!”</p>
<p>Marisol rolled her eyes and chuckled, “Yeah, I’m sure that last bit really helped.”</p>
<p>“It did!” Aurora protested, feigning offense.</p>
<p>“Mmhhmm,” Marisol walked out of the kitchen and headed out the front door to the U-Haul truck parked in the driveway. “ Nothing to do with the fact it’d been on the market for over a year.”</p>
<p>“Eh, that might’ve helped some.” Aurora chuckled softly before putting a firm hand on the plastic bin Marisol was just about to grab. “It’ll be better here. I promise.”</p>
<p>“That’s what you said about the last three homes.” Marisol sighed sadly, knowing Aurora was trying her best to give her a stable life. “I’m sure this one will be different,” She smirked coyly, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll finally find a long term man.”</p>
<p>Aurora laughed as Marisol walked away, followed by a small grayish calico that chirped as she ran inside. She took another box and followed the two back into the house.</p>
<p>“You know, I’m not the one having trouble getting a man!” Aurora teased, setting down a third box on the kitchen counter, while Marisol opened up another with scissors.</p>
<p>“Eh...relationships...hook-ups...its overrated.” Marisol started unpacking the ceramic plates and bowls, picking a suitable cabinet and stacking them neatly. Aurora smiled sadly to herself--she knew Marisol played it off, but even after two years, it was hard for her to move on--to trust someone new. Maybe now--maybe here--they could both start fresh.</p>
<p>“You know...starting school tomorrow...that could be a way to meet new people.”</p>
<p>“I don’t need new people...I have you.”</p>
<p>“As sweet as that is…” Aurora hesitated. She had told Marisol her intentions for moving--to start a new life, to find out more about her parents---but she’d neglected to tell her what she’d learned about the town--who she’d learned about. “...look, I haven’t been completely honest with you.”</p>
<p>Marisol paused for a second, eyeing Aurora with uncertainty.</p>
<p>“I do want you to make new friends…I really do...but i also kind of...<em>need</em> you to…” Aurora stopped once again, trying to gauge Marisol’s reaction as she resumed pulling out wine glasses and cups from one of the boxes.</p>
<p>“You want me to be friends with Scott McCall.” Marisol spoke without looking up, still unpacking carefully. She smirked at Aurora and chuckled before turning to put the glasses in the cupboard. “You’re not the only one who can do research, you know?”</p>
<p>Aurora shook her head and laughed silently. She was always amazed at how quickly Marisol picked up on things--secrets were hard to keep from that one.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”</p>
<p>“It’s okay. I’m sure you have your reasons.” Marisol dove into another box, this one full of pots and pans.</p>
<p>“I just...didn’t want to tell you unless I was sure you had to be involved.” Aurora had sworn to protect her, and she didn’t see the point of taking any unnecessary risks.</p>
<p>“So...is he dangerous?” Marisol asked, this time looking straight at Aurora’s eyes, looking for truth.</p>
<p>“I don’t know.” Aurora answered honestly, but hiding the fear and sense of uncertainty she had. “I’m guessing we’ll find out one way or another.”</p>
<p>“I guess we will.” Marisol was scared, but she trusted Aurora and she knew she’d never put her in harm’s way. “Now stop wasting time and help me unpack!”</p>
<p>Aurora rolled her eyes and laughed out loud, before following Marisol back out to the truck.</p>
<p>_________________</p>
<p>Later that night, Aurora stood leaning against the door frame looking into the room Marisol had chosen for herself. The home was a three-bedroom and after Marisol argued that she wouldn’t be sleeping in the dead couple’s room, and after they’d both agreed it’d be not-so-nice to make it the guest room--Aurora got stuck with the master suite. She didn’t complain because the bathtub was huge and it wasn’t like she was sleeping in their bed. She knocked lightly against the open door with her knuckles, and watched as Marisol kept folding and organizing her clothes on the bed, Emy curled up on the bed pillow, purring and following Marisol’s every movement.</p>
<p>“Hmm?” Marisol responded without looking up. She’d been aware of Aurora’s presence for a while, but sometimes being in each other’s presence didn’t mean they had to talk. “Is dinner ready?”</p>
<p>“If by dinner, you mean the pizza i’m about to order...then, almost.” Aurora walked towards the bed and sat down, helping to fold and sort the remaining clothes. “You’ve been awfully quiet since this morning--everything okay?” Marisol nodded.</p>
<p>“Hmm...okay. Well just know that you can always say no to me...if you ever feel like it’s too much. Okay?”</p>
<p>Marisol stopped folding and looked over at Aurora, “Okay...No.”</p>
<p>Aurora tried to hide her sudden surprise. She’d meant what she said, but she hadn’t really expected it to happen. Before Aurora could respond, Marisol cut her off.</p>
<p>“No, I don’t want pineapple on my pizza.”</p>
<p>Aurora rolled her eyes and threw the pair of sweatpants she was folding at Marisol’s head, before getting up and walking toward the door. Marisol followed quickly after her.</p>
<p>“No, really. I hate it. Please. Never make me eat it again.” Marisol laughed as she followed Aurora down the stairs.</p>
<p>“Too late. Too bad. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Aurora shook her head, “Who raised you to be like this? My child would never!”</p>
<p>____________</p>
<p>Marisol was setting the table when the doorbell rang, and shortly after, Aurora came into the kitchen with two pizza boxes in hand. “I love you, so I got two--one without pineapple.”</p>
<p>“Thank you!” Marisol laughed, taking a slice and sitting down. Aurora joined her and the two ate in silence, only now realizing that they hadn’t eaten since the previous day--too busy with unpacking and settling in.</p>
<p>“So, how exactly did you learn about Scott McCall?” Aurora finally broke the silence.</p>
<p>“You left a sticky note on your desk with his name on it. I figured you wouldn’t write someone’s name down on a sticky if you weren’t going to look into them.”</p>
<p>“What if it had been, like a porn star’s name?” Aurora scoffed at Marisol’s deduction skills.</p>
<p>“Well, then I would have had a not-so-pleasant search.” Marisol rolled her eyes. “And it wasn’t. Plus, name three porn stars you even know--shit, name one!”</p>
<p>“Touche.” Aurora responded with her mouth full. “Well, then how come you never told me anything?”</p>
<p>“I dunno...I was kinda waiting until you brought it up…” Aurora felt a pang of guilt. She didn’t like keeping secrets from Marisol, but she knew always getting her involved could be dangerous. She owed it to Marisol’s parents to keep her safe.</p>
<p>“Okay, well what did you find out?” Aurora dove in for another slice.</p>
<p>“He’s lived here all his life. 17, going on 18. Always involved in the town’s mysterious happenings. Works at the local animal clinic. Star of the high school lacrosse team--which really? Lacrosse? Okay.” Marisol paused for a few seconds before continuing, “He is the only known supernatural to defeat Deucalion...known to most by his self-ordained nickname, the Demon Wolf….and...he’s a true alpha.” At this, Marisol stopped her list.</p>
<p>“I’m guessing you didn’t learn that one on the internet?” Aurora commented.</p>
<p>“No… mom kept a journal of people she knew...supernatural and the like…” Marisol paused; Aurora waited for more details. “I never reached the person I was trying, but at least eight people I called mentioned the rumor of a True Alpha somewhere in California.”</p>
<p>“Only a rumor though.”</p>
<p>“Figured if eight people heard the same one…” Marisol shrugged.</p>
<p>“I’m surprised. You know almost as much as I do.” Aurora sighed, relieved that Marisol hadn’t out researched her, but also disappointed at how little they knew. “Only other thing I know is that the pack he’s made for himself isn’t exactly...conventional.” Marisol threw her a questioning glance. “He’s got… a coyote, a kitsune, a banshee...and a human that he seems to refuse to turn.”</p>
<p>“So...he likes misfits.”</p>
<p>“You should fit right in then.” Aurora smiled, hopeful that Marisol would be able to befriend this Scott without risking any endangerment to herself. “By the way, who was it that you were trying to reach, but never found?”</p>
<p>“Some guy named Deaton…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marisol starts her first day at Beacon Hills High School, while Aurora contemplates her next move.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aurora awoke at the sounds of birds chirping outside her window-- a sound she wasn’t used to after months of living in the city. She sat up in bed, reaching to get her phone from the nightstand, a sticky note attached to the screen:</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“You probably didn’t hear me getting ready (or coming into your room), but didn’t want to wake you. See you later today &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<p>Aurora smiled and shot Marisol a text, wishing her a great first day at school, before opening up a dog sitting app to change her location settings. Traveling around often had made it difficult to hold down a steady job, and while she and Marisol had inherited a decent sum from her pack, she’d put that money on hold--only for emergencies and Marisol’s college. The two of them worked hard to stay afloat on their own--late night shifts waitressing at local diners, running the late showings at the movie theaters, babysitting, tutoring--working any job that gave them money and let them leave whenever they needed. After juggling as much as they could, Aurora had settled for a job that let her work her own hours and her own schedule, never really interfering with any plans she had--Dog Sitting. It was like babysitting...but better--less babies, more dogs.</p>
<p>After updating her address and contact info, Aurora got up and headed for the shower. It was a little later than she wanted it to be, but she excused her sleeping in on all the moving and unpacking they’d done in the past week. Moving from city to city for the past two years had been exhausting, and if this was going to be their next “permanent” home, then she had all the time in the world.</p>
<p>In the shower, Aurora thought of how far the two of them had come. They had been through so much over the past two years--pain, suffering, heartbreak, loss--and it hadn’t been easy, if anything, it seemed to get harder with time, for Marisol anyway. That’s why she wanted this to be their fresh start, their new beginning, and maybe even a permanent home--somewhere she could settle and Marisol could always come back to. All she needed to know, was that it was safe. And that’s where Scott came in.</p>
<p>Aurora wanted Marisol to befriend him, maybe even infiltrate his pack, find out what he was all about, and whether or not he posed a threat. It wasn’t that Aurora and Marisol couldn’t deal with a threat, but she was tired of running and she was tired of fighting, even if she did enjoy a good brawl every now and then--it was never worth it when she knew that either of them could be left alone. If she ever lost Marisol, she’d never be able to forgive herself, and while she didn’t care about herself getting hurt, she knew if anything ever did happen to her, Marisol would have no one. Maybe that was the real reason she wanted to know about Scott, wanted Marisol to get to know him, wanted him to be good--so that maybe, if anything ever did happen, she’d have someone, have a family. If Scott was really a True Alpha, then he’d be able--maybe even worthy enough--to protect Marisol.</p>
<p>Suddenly, another thought crossed her mind--Deaton. Who was he? She’d heard his name on occasion when she was only a Beta, but never actually knew who he was, or what his role was in the supernatural world. Marisol had mentioned his name being pretty high up in her mother’s “important contacts” list--coming in second, right after Talia Hale, so whoever he was, he had to be someone big. Was he friendly? Or was he dangerous? Aurora didn’t think of Marisol’s mother as having someone dangerous on her go-to list, but then again, they had kept their own daughter in the dark about who they were for so long. Had Moira known about him? If she had, then why not let Aurora know? And if he was so high up on the contact list of a pack in Delaware, how come she hadn’t known of him? How important could he be that he was second to Talia Hale? Now the Hales, she knew about. The oldest and purest of werewolf families, born into the supernatural, not turned--they were people of peace and coexisting. Yet, they were still attacked and destroyed--a whole family of werewolves taken out by a power-hungry hunter--an Argent. Aurora had heard rumors that a few of the Hales survived, and those that had, took down a lot of the Argent clan. What kind of irony was that? The oldest and biggest of werewolf families, and the oldest, most ruthless of hunter families--both, essentially extinct. Maybe Deaton had been a Hale? Or a member of a rival pack? Whatever the case, Aurora concluded he was worth looking into. But that was an entirely different issue, and right now, she had to focus on the one at hand--Who is Scott McCall?</p>
<p>__________________________</p>
<p>The bell rang just as Marisol stepped out of her car. Pulling her backpack onto her back, she took a deep breath and made her way towards the school’s entrance. She should have gone in earlier, but first days always made her nervous and somehow, sitting in her car for twenty minutes had seemed like a better idea than talking to the principal. Hopefully this wouldn’t reflect badly on her character.</p>
<p>She walked through the front doors and straight into a busy hall--students all bustling around, trying to get to their classes before the late bell rang. She looked around, trying to take it all in. In their two years of travelling, this is what Marisol hated most--new school every few months. She’d thought she’d gotten used to it, but here she was again, her stomach in knots and anxiety crushing her chest. Maybe it was just the new pressure of having to actually make friends, and not just with anyone, but with Scott McCall--someone they knew hardly anything about. <em>It'll be okay</em>, she thought, <em>Just make it through day one, then you can figure it out as you go. With that, she took off toward the main office</em>.</p>
<p>“Listen Mr. Stilinski, you can talk to Mrs. Nebowski about transferring out of your calculus class, but I really think you’ll benefit from taking it this year.”</p>
<p>Marisol walked past the front desk where a student seemed to be in an argument with one of the school administrators, and made her way straight toward the open office of the school principal--his name, on a plaque on his desk, “Mr. Jones.” She knocked lightly on the door, waiting for an invitation. A middle aged man was seated at the desk, his face concentrated on his computer screen, only momentarily distracted when he heard the knock.</p>
<p>“Come in.” He said, not looking over, his voice monotone. Finally, sensing the presence of someone in the room, he looked up and smiled brightly at Marisol. “You must be Miss Montenegro!”</p>
<p>Marisol nodded and smiled back, feeling more at ease, comforted by the man’s seemingly kind nature. She shook his hand and took a seat across his desk, waiting for him to get all her paperwork together--a process she knew all too well after all these years. She sat quietly while he went through her file, watching him go through her transcripts and notes from other schools, nodding in approval. Then suddenly a frown.</p>
<p>“It says here that you live with your cousin?” Marisol nodded in response. “Is she your legal guardian?”</p>
<p>“Yes.” Marisol swallowed hard. She always feared this question. If ever a real search would be done, it wouldn’t take long to find out that Marisol and Aurora weren’t even related. What would happen then? “My parents passed away a few years ago and she was the closest of kin.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” Mr. Jones frowned, suddenly feeling awkward. “I’m, uh, very sorry for your loss.” He coughed loudly, then continued to go through her file, a tense feeling now lingering in the air.</p>
<p>Marisol smiled to herself and looked down at her hands. Typically, she hated the look of pity that others gave her when they heard her story, but she had to admit, this awkwardness was worse.</p>
<p>“Okay!” Jones suddenly said, in a more jovial tone that now seemed too inappropriate. “Here is your class schedule!” He reached over to his printer and grabbed the paper, handing it to Marisol. “And might I say, Beacon Hills High is very grateful and excited to welcome a bright and involved student such as yourself!”</p>
<p>“Thank you.” Marisol said quietly, taking the paper from the principal as he smiled and turned back to his computer--the comforting feeling from before, gone. She grabbed her things and stood, turning toward the door.</p>
<p>“Oh, close the door on your way out, will you?” She looked back to see the principal’s face staring intently at his screen--the kindness from before no longer there. She closed the door behind her, sighing shakily, fear once again flowing through her bones. She had to control it. At this rate, Scott Mccall would have been able to smell her from across the school. She slowed her breathing and repeated to herself the words Aurora had taught her, “I am me. And that’s enough.” After feeling her heart rate go down, she turned slowly, making her way toward the main office’s front door. She’d taken all of two steps before she felt someone knock into her, almost knocking her to the ground.</p>
<p>“Oh shit. Sorry!” Marisol looked up and noticed it was the boy from earlier--the one who was talking to the secretary. He had his hands placed on her shoulders trying to keep her steady, and a worried look hung on his brow. His dark brown eyes met hers, still wide from the shock of bumping into someone. “Shit. You okay?”</p>
<p>“Language, Mr. Stilinski.” The secretary berated him, a light teasing tone in her voice.</p>
<p>“Hmm, what?” He turned toward the secretary and she gave him a knowing glaring over the top of her glasses. He gave her a thumbs up and smiled at her goofily,“Right. My bad.”</p>
<p>Marisol took advantage of the boy’s current distraction and turned to walk away, the sound of the late bell ringing loudly in her ears. It was her first day and she was already late to her first class. She didn’t care much for first impressions, but she also wanted to avoid any attention she could. She walked the halls slowly, looking at each door number before finding the one she needed--Biology. Looking through the window, she knocked on the door before walking in, gaining the teacher’s attention.</p>
<p>“Ah! You must be Marisol!” She was a middle-aged woman with a warm and inviting smile. “Everyone, Marisol is new here, so I am sure you will all do your best in making her feel welcome.”</p>
<p>Everyone looked at her, some whispering to the person next to them, others smiling up at her, others turning back to the work on their desk. Marisol looked around, trying to find a nice-looking face, someone who might not intimidate her.</p>
<p>“Alright let’s find you a seat.” The teacher looked at her chart, but it was clear that there wasn’t enough room for Marisol. “You know what, since his usual partner in crime seems to be missing, you can take a seat next to Scott.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marisol has her first chance encounter with Scott McCall, followed by another maybe not-so chance encounter with Lydia Martin.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Marisol walked slowly over to the seat the teacher had pointed out--her heart pounding, about to break out of her chest. She needed to calm down. If she didn’t, she ran the risk of Scott sensing more than just first day anxiety. Slowing her breathing and steadying her heart rate, she took a seat next to him, and put down her things.</p>
<p>“Hi,” the boy turned toward her, speaking in a low tone and smiling softly, “I’m Scott.”</p>
<p>Marisol’s heart rate picked up again, only a little, taken aback by the warmness of his smile and the crinkle of his eyes. He was cute. Not only was he a true alpha, but he was a cute one. Marisol took in his features quickly--small brown eyes, a hooked nose, and a crooked jaw, but somehow, it all made him look all that much more charming. Her breath hitched a bit before she managed to mumble out her one word response, “Marisol.”</p>
<p>Scott’s smile grew, and Marisol blushed bright red, knowing he could hear her heart racing, and knowing it was definitely about him. <em>At least he’ll think it’s only about how cute he is, and not anything else</em>. This thought made her feel more at ease. His smile meant he hadn’t sensed her--meant she was still concealing her scent and her true self. To him, right now, she was nothing more than the shy new girl, and that was okay. “Welcome to Beacon Hills.”</p>
<p>“Thanks.” Marisol smiled back, finally managing to get her heart rate back to normal. He seemed nice, and that made him less of a threat in her mind. She turned to face forward, hoping to catch up with the lecture the teacher had already started when she had walked in. Scott turned as well, opening his book and turning to the page written on the board. Marisol peaked over at his book and noticed it was covered in highlighter. She smiled. <em>He’s cute, he’s nice, and he tries hard--he can’t be dangerous</em>. But then she thought back--<em>he’d</em> been cute, and nice and tried hard. And still <em>he’d</em> done what he did and killed who he killed and ruined her life. So really, all of that meant nothing. She turned away from Scott, berating herself for being so quick to trust and believe in others--it was what Aurora called her greatest strength and biggest weakness.</p>
<p>“With your partner, you will be taking these five petri dishes, and on them will be growing bacteria!” The teacher walked around the room handing out a packet of lab instructions as well as q-tips and soap. She went on to explain what the lab would consist of--two petri dishes would be each partner's finger tips, one would be a washed hand, one would be a swab of a most used object, and the other, the inside of one partner’s cheek. After her explanation, the students all got to work, and the room exploded with sound.</p>
<p>“Okay, uhm…do you want to go first...or?” Scott asked, smiling excitedly as he uncovered the first petri dish.</p>
<p>“Yeah that’s cool.” Marisol pulled back the sleeve of her shirt and gently placed all five finger pads onto the agar, pushing down only a little, so as to leave a print. “I guess we’ll find out whose hands are dirtier.”</p>
<p>Scott smirked at this and proceeded to cover the dish and label it with a strip of tape, Marisol’s name written on it in his messy handwriting. She smiled at this. It made her feel strange that something so simple and irrelevant made her feel comforted--he hadn’t asked her to do it, he hadn’t awkwardly handed her the pen, he hadn’t even asked how to spell her name to cover up for his forgetting it--he’d written it himself, because he’d remembered.</p>
<p>Suddenly, the door swung open, interrupting her thoughts and the classroom, as the boy from earlier walked in looking flushed. He handed the teacher a note and looked over to the table Marisol was sitting at, looking from her to Scott, before throwing up his arms in a way that said “what the hell man?” Scott shrugged and smiled in response as the teacher handed the other boy a packet and sent him to a table at the back of the room.</p>
<p>“Sorry Mr. Stilinski--you show up late, you lose your partner.”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh.” He walked to the back, passing Scott at the table, squinting at him and shaking his head.</p>
<p>“Sorry Stiles!” Scott chuckled quietly, before turning back to the project at hand.</p>
<p>“Your friend?” Marisol asked, opening the second petri dish and sliding it toward Scotts hand. Scott took his hand and placed the tips of his fingers in the dish, looking back at the other boy and chuckling.</p>
<p>“Yeah. That’s Stiles.” He smiled warmly and Marisol was taken aback by the sudden show of affection for the boy, and even more so by how genuine that affection was. She looked back at the boy, catching his eye. Throwing his head back, he gave her a tight lipped smile and raised his eyebrows. Marisol returned a more sincere--apologetic--smile and mouthed the words “I’m sorry”, which made him smirk and shake his head. It was only now that Marisol took the time to really look at him--dark brown hair with the eyes to match, a turned up nose, and little freckles splattered across his cheeks and neck. He was handsome. Not in the same warm way as Scott, but still handsome nonetheless.</p>
<p>“His name is Stiles Stilinski?” Marisol asked, slightly perplexed at the strange name. Scott raised his eyebrows at her, taken aback and suddenly alarmed at how she knew his friend’s last name. Marisol sensed this and calmly responded, “I bumped into him in the main office this morning.”</p>
<p>“Oh!” Scott relaxed, smiling at her again. “Well that explains where he was this morning and why he wasn’t answering any of my texts.”</p>
<p>“Were you...like...worried about him or something?” Marisol asked, noticing the same over-protectiveness in Scott that she saw in Aurora--always worried, always checking up on her, always making sure she was okay. This was always a good trait to have. It meant he cared about his pack right? He cared about his friends.</p>
<p>“Yeah…” Scott hesitated, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he suddenly felt embarrassed. “But not in like...a weird way!”</p>
<p>Marisol gave him a questioning look. “We’ve just been through a lot together and he’s my best friend...He’s like my brother, basically.”</p>
<p>“I get that.” Marisol smiled at him. “My cousin’s the same way. Always looking out for me.”</p>
<p>Almost as if on cue, her phone vibrated on the table, a message from Aurora popping up:</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Don’t forget to make friends!!!! And don’t forget you are BEAUTIFUL, FUNNY, and KIND! You got this!!!!”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<p>It was followed by three big hearts and a kissy face emoji.</p>
<p>“Speak of the devil…” Marisol mumbled under her breath, turning a bright pink when she noticed that Scott was looking down at her phone and had clearly read the message.</p>
<p>“Seems like they love you a lot.” Scott coughed awkwardly, trying to hide his laugh, not missing the embarrassment that was clearly written all over Marisol’s face. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be nosy!”</p>
<p>“It’s okay.” Marisol laughed quietly. “Anyway… should we finish? There’s only like, ten minutes of class left…”</p>
<p>Scott looked at the clock and after realizing she was right, turned back and got to work. After much protest from her, he finally got her to agree to swabbing the inside of her mouth (“yours is definitely much cleaner! I can smell the listerine on your breath!”). He swabbed her cheek and tongue gently, noticing that she was getting redder and redder by the second. To try to lessen her embarrassment, he tried restarting the conversation. “His name is much harder.”</p>
<p>“Huh?” Marisol questioned, mouth agape and a confused look on her face.</p>
<p>“Stiles. It’s just a nickname. His real name is much harder to pronounce so he prefers to go by Stiles.” It took a while, but Marisol realized that they had gone back to her previous question regarding the boy’s name.</p>
<p>“Oh. Okay.” Marisol looked back at Stiles, who had already finished his lab project and was tapping his fingers against the table top. He looked back at her and nodded. “What is it? His real name?”</p>
<p>Scott chuckled, following Marisol’s stare. “Meiczyslaw.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” Marisol smiled back at Stiles. “That is hard.”</p>
<p>____________________________________________________________________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Marisol looked up from the book she was buried in, a mess of papers sprawled out in front of her on the brown library table. It was only four, but the school would probably be closing soon and she didn’t want to be the last person there. She grabbed her phone and sent Aurora a quick text, letting her know she’d be home within half an hour and could they please have a decent meal today--no more left over pizza. Putting her phone down, she went back to her book and continued to scribble in her notebook. It was AP Econ and she had an exam at the end of next week that she had to admit, she wasn’t prepared for. The problem with always being on the move, is that she never really got a clean start at school--no coming in at the end of summer; no starting fresh when everyone else did--it was always in the middle of a semester, when everything was already started. Because of this Marisol always had to work three times as hard to catch up, to adapt to the new school, the new system, the new teachers--it was starting to become exhausting.</p>
<p>“Are...you okay?” A voice broke through Marisol’s concentration, making her look up to see who had spoken. She was met by the concerned face of a beautiful, light-skinned redhead. Marisol looked at her bewildered, not sure how she hadn’t heard her come near--sure, there were others in the library, and yeah, she was focused on her studies, but even then, she should have been more alert. Maybe it was still the first-day jitters getting to her.</p>
<p>“You look a little overwhelmed? Are you okay?” The girl asked again, surprising Marisol with how worried she seemed to be about her.</p>
<p>“Oh! Yeah! Sorry, I’m just trying to catch up on the readings for this semester. I just started, so I’m a little behind...but I’m okay, thanks.” Marisol explained.</p>
<p>“Ah, so you’re the new girl Scott and Stiles were talking about at lunch.” The girl took a seat across from Marisol and grabbed some of the loose papers that were lying around, scanning them quickly before turning back to look at Marisol. “Looks like you’re quite the over-achiever! And here I thought I’d be the only one.”</p>
<p>Marisol smiled, unsure of whether or not that was a compliment. The girl smirked at her “Relax, it’ll be nice having a friend that can keep up.”</p>
<p>“Oh...you’re friends with Scott?” Marisol asked, taken aback once again by how nice she was being. She’d already referred to her as a <em>friend</em>.</p>
<p>The girl nodded. “He mentioned you were his lab partner in ap bio. Said you were nice.”</p>
<p>“He did?” Marisol asked, letting out a breathy laugh, “I thought I was being awkward.”</p>
<p>“Awkward doesn’t mean not nice though, does it?”</p>
<p>“No, I guess it doesn’t. Did he <em>say</em> I was awkward?”</p>
<p>The girl just laughed, standing up from her chair and gathering her things.</p>
<p>“Where did you have lunch today?”</p>
<p>“Uhm… behind building C…”</p>
<p>“Hmmm.” The girl hesitated, squinting at Marisol, taking her in and making a decision about her. “Have lunch with us tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Uhmm. Okay, yeah. Sure.” Marisol tried not to sound too eager, but she was excited at how fast this was happening--maybe she didn’t have to be sneaky about infiltrating Scott’s pack. Maybe they’d actually become friends. She wondered who the redheaded girl was in his pack--not a werewolf? Was she the Human or was she the Banshee? Maybe she was something else entirely.</p>
<p>“It’s kinda my thing to befriend the newbies…” She stayed quiet for a while, her face suddenly falling, but only for a few seconds. “I’m Lydia.”</p>
<p>“Hi Lydia. I’m Marisol.”</p>
<p>“Don’t stay too late, hun. And if you need help catching up, let me know...I took econ last year, and I know how Coach likes to structure his tests.” She smiled softly at Marisol. Scott had spoken well of her, but she knew all too well how trusting Scott was, and how much he’d suffered for it in the past. She’d decided to meet the girl herself, and now that she was here, she felt good about her--she seemed sweet and too timid to be a threat. <em>Definitely NOT a werewolf. Or a were-anything</em>.</p>
<p>“Thanks. I might take you up on that.” Marisol smiled back at her, hoping the line didn’t sound like she was flirting. She wanted to be nice, but didn’t want to alienate the new friend she’d made. The girl nodded and left, taking one last look at Marisol before she exited through the library doors. Aurora would be proud and amazed at how well she’d done--even though, really she hadn’t done much except be in the right place at the right time. She wondered what else Scott had told his friends about her. Had she really made enough of an impression for him to bring her up to his friends? She smiled at this. Maybe Aurora was right after all--just being herself was enough.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aurora makes a mistake and struggle with the consequences her recent decisions for Marisol and herself. An easy night in with a new client should help, till it takes a different turn and Aurora finds herself confronted with her past.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Woof, woof. Woof. Woof. Woof woof.</em>
</p>
<p>Aurora continued to ignore the notifications on her phone, even under the intense stare of Marisol.</p>
<p>“You gonna get that?”</p>
<p>She looked up at Marisol and shook her head. Marisol just sighed and reached over to grab the phone, “Why don't you want to answer? Surely it can't be that bad, well, not as bad as that time we were in Texas.”</p>
<p>She scanned through the notifications and did a double take, exclaiming, “They can't possibly be serious!”</p>
<p>“They are being persistent aren't they?” Aurora smiled, “I have to say, little impressed that they haven't given up.”</p>
<p>“But, that's just...why?” asked Marisol, shaking her head.</p>
<p>“As far as requests go, it's not the worst. Like you mentioned, I don't want another Texas. They did give a nice review though, in light of what happened.” Aurora chuckled at the memory.</p>
<p>“I swear, I thought you were gonna kill them with all the trouble they gave you. Honestly, who keeps ducks for pets?” Marisol offered the phone to Aurora, “You know you should give it a chance. We may have a flawless reputation, but in a town like this--word of mouth is what's really gonna help.”</p>
<p>Aurora begrudgingly took the phone and started typing out a message letting them know that she was available for the desired time and willing to give it a shot. Marisol kept an eye on her, watching to see how the conversation progressed. She showed off the messages to Marisol as proof that she did it before putting the phone back on the table and going back to staring out the window. She mulled over what Marisol had been telling her before they’d been interrupted by the persistent dog-app messages. One day. It took all of one day for Marisol to befriend Scott McCall, or in this case, a friend of Scott’s. She’d figured it’d take weeks before she’d even talked to him, but here they were now discussing what to look out for for their lunch tomorrow.</p>
<p>“I’m telling you, I don’t think he’s a bad guy.” Marisol said, eating another spoonful of spaghetti before continuing. “I know you say I trust too easy, but..I dunno. I guess you had to be there, actually have met him.”</p>
<p>“I believe you. I think you think he’s not a bad guy. But I want to be sure before I make my own decision.” Aurora tried to be as gentle as possible, knowing that this was always a sensitive topic. Marisol had always been too trusting, and even after the incident, it hadn’t exactly changed. Aurora had learned to distrust--to always have answers before letting someone into her life. Marisol on the other hand, had completely cut herself off from the rest of the world, letting only Aurora in--and even then, only when she had to. That hadn’t helped in teaching her not to let others in so easily, it only kept her safe from ever having to establish relationships in the first place. She still hadn’t lost her compassionate and kind nature--she was quick to love and care for others--quick to see the light in them. It had been why she was so hesitant to tell her about Scott. This meant opening up again. Letting in a whole new group of people--ones that were potentially dangerous.</p>
<p>“Well, I’ll learn more during lunch tomorrow.” Marisol responded, trying not to be offended. She knew Aurora thought of her as weak when it came to judgement of character, but it had been so long since she had really met anyone--so long since she had any friends--she needed Scott to be good. Aurora was really all she had and Marisol had played it off for so many years, pretending like she wasn’t lonely, like she didn’t wish she had someone else to lean on, but now that they were here--now that they were trying to stay--it was different. “Anyway how’d your day go?”</p>
<p>“Mmm stop trying to change the topic--my day was fine--what was he like that made you think he was a good guy, huh?” Aurora finally dove into her spaghetti that was now getting cold. “Did he say something? Or do something?”</p>
<p>“Not really?” Marisol picked at her food with her spoon. “He just…I dunno...just a vibe I guess.”</p>
<p>“A vibe? You’re basing yourself off a vibe?” Aurora was trying to be more understanding but she needed Marisol to understand that they could be in harm’s way if they weren’t careful about this boy. She was becoming increasingly frustrated that Marisol couldn’t seem to grasp that concept and that just saying “he seemed nice” wasn’t good enough. “How is a vibe even enough to gauge the type of person someone is? How is that even enough to decide whether someone is a homicidal killer or a hero? I’m gonna need you to do a lot better than just a vibe!”</p>
<p>“Look, he remembered my name alright? Like, the teacher only said it once and he hadn’t asked me and it wasn’t written on my paper.” Marisol said frustratedly, embarrassed about how the thought sounded out loud.</p>
<p>“He remembered your name?” Aurora questioned. “That’s it?”</p>
<p>Marisol nodded.</p>
<p>“Honey, anyone can remember the name of a pretty girl.”</p>
<p>Marisol rolled her eyes. “That’s sweet. But we both know I’m not pretty enough to be remembered. And it wasn’t just that he remembered my name. Like I said, it was a vibe. He just didn’t feel evil.”</p>
<p>“Neither did Sean.” The room fell quiet. This was the first time either of them had said his name, and the minute it left her lips, Aurora regretted everything she had said. She should have just trusted her. No one knew better than Marisol the dangers of judging someone too soon, and pulling out the receipt wasn’t a fair move--it was almost despicable. Marisol looked down into her bowl of spaghetti--only half eaten--she didn’t stir. Aurora held the gaze she had on her, not wanting to back down now that she had pulled out the one move she’d swore to herself she’d never use--that she’d never bring up. She’d almost held it together had it not been for the single tear she saw fall from Marisol’s face, onto the table.</p>
<p>“Marisol, I--” Aurora started softly, hoping to take back her words, but was only interrupted by Marisol.</p>
<p>“Last time I was a child. Last time I was human.” Marisol stood from the table, finally lifting her gaze and staring Aurora straight in the eye. “A lot of things have changed over the years. I’d hoped maybe you’d finally realized I have too.”</p>
<p>With that, she walked out of the kitchen and through the front door, grabbing only her purse and keys, and leaving behind a crying Aurora at the dining room table. How could she have said that? And how could Marisol have just walked out like that? Without letting her apologize? She just wanted what was best for her dammit! She just wanted Marisol to be strong, to be able to live without her--to grow and maybe be an alpha of her own. Aurora set her head down onto her arms, a small sob escaping her lips. She’d moved here for a fresh start, for a new beginning--for a time to try new things! I guess this was new. They’d never fought before and she had never lashed out at Marisol in this manner.</p>
<p>
  <em>Woof. woof. Woof. woof.</em>
</p>
<p>Breaking her from her thoughts, the phone buzzed and barked loudly, letting her know she had more messages she needed attending to. She wiped her face and unlocked the phone, rolling her eyes when she saw that it was the same owners from before, begging her to come and apologizing for such a short notice. Aurora quickly tapped away an answer letting them know she’d be there in 20.</p>
<p>She sighed. Great. Just how she wanted to spend their first real day settled in Beacon Hills--fighting, crying, and now--taking care of a teacup pig. “Still better than ducks.” She mumbled and got up to get ready.</p>
<p>____________________________________________________________________________</p>
<p>When Aurora had first arrived at the address that was listed on her phone, she’d thought she’d definitely made a wrong decision--a giant, fancy house lined with cars on each side--who the hell has two driveways? She pulled up to the front, stepping out and preparing herself for whatever lay ahead of her. <em>If they’re crazy just say no</em>. But all that changed the second they thrust the tiny pig into her hands and thanked her profusely for being available on such short notice!</p>
<p>“Our normal sitter cancelled last minute and you had the best reviews on your profile!” The woman introduced herself as Mrs. Bernstein and looked to be in her mid 40s, blonde and short, but all around seemed genuinely nice and grateful to have Aurora there. “We just have a fundraiser to get to, and leaving her alone by herself wasn’t going to be an option.”</p>
<p>“Olivia tends to get stuck in places a lot--that’s the only real problem.” The husband spoke up, coming up behind the wife to help her with her coat. He explained where the food was kept and that Aurora was to help herself to whatever she needed, “except my good wine!”</p>
<p>They joked around for a few minutes before the couple really had to get going, bidding her goodbye and leaving a generous payment in her account. Aurora waved at them from the doorway, holding the pig in her arms. She walked back and looked around, taking in the house she would be staying in for the next few hours. Looking back down that the little pig, her heart softened, the events from earlier almost forgotten.</p>
<p>“How could I have almost said no to you?! What was I thinking?” She smiled and bounced the pig up and down, gently in her arms. “Now, what’ll we do?”</p>
<p>The night progressed rather quickly as Aurora managed to keep busy cleaning up mess after mess after mess. First, Olivia walked straight through her food, tracking it through the kitchen and leaving the white tile a sloppy disaster. Second, all the pillows on every piece of sitting furniture somehow ended up all over the floor, with Olivia sitting proudly on one of the fancy embroidered decor pillows. She even managed to throw a temper tantrum, resulting in her getting stuck between the cushions of the armchair, her butt sticking up in the air. Aurora would have liked to leave her there, but after 10 seconds of continuous squealing, she decided it was better not too--plus she didn't know if there might be any hidden cameras.</p>
<p>The latest mess was from the water bowl. Olivia had decided to take a bath in it. Aurora looked down at Olivia, who was now shaking off the excess water on the expensive-looking velvet couches. She sighed loudly, “You know Olivia, you make a large mess for one your size. Now please stay put while I clean up the water.” Either retaliating for not having her normal caretaker, or simply not being a fan of Aurora herself--or maybe out of just plain stubbornness--Olivia ignored the request and continued to do as she pleased, deciding it was time for a break outside.</p>
<p>Aurora heard the recognizable sound of the doggy...no, <em>piggy</em> flap closing. Groaning loudly, she stood from being on all fours and abandoned her spot on the wet tile floor to follow Olivia outside. Thankfully she found the pig busy doing it's business on the grass. “At least that's one mess I don't have to worry about you making inside.” Aurora berated Olivia, her hands placed firmly on her hips. “Do you feel better? Will you behave now, please?”</p>
<p>Olivia looked up at her innocently, gave a loud snort and proceeded to trot back inside. Aurora followed hoping the rest of the night would pass by quietly, but those hopes were quickly shattered when she heard Olivia squealing loudly again, only this time, it was in pain. She ran inside to find Olivia caught in her piggy door, squirming and struggling to break free. Before Aurora could reach her, Olivia managed to wiggle her way out, cutting her belly in the process and letting out one more loud squeal.</p>
<p>“Shit. Shit. No! Olivia, are you okay?” Aurora picked up the teacup pig and inspected her wound, panicking internally and wondering what the best course of action was. She decided to bite the bullet and call Mrs. Bernstein to explain what had happened, though she couldn’t say that Mrs. Bernstein sounded too surprised. “I’m so sorry this happened, Mrs. Bernstein.” Aurora hoped that the couple wouldn’t be to upset, and while she didn’t really want to take another job with them, she really didn’t want to have a bad review tarnishing her impeccable online resume.</p>
<p>“No, no. No need to be sorry,” Mrs. Bernstein shouted from the other end of the call. There was a lot of background noise and Aurora could only guess that the fundraiser event was going well. “Olivia is normally better behaved, but we should have known this would happen. She never reacts well to strangers. Is there any way you can take her to the veterinarian?”</p>
<p>“This late?” Aurora asked, cautiously. “Are there any still open?”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure, hun, but I would greatly appreciate it.” With that, Mrs. Bernstein hung up the phone. Leaving Aurora with a disgruntled pig in her arms, and a sense of dread that crept up and took hold of her.</p>
<p>As Aurora drove to the only Vet in town, the feeling that something was wrong kept getting stronger, now engulfing her mind entirely. But why? What could it be? It wasn’t like this was the first time an animal had been hurt while under her care. Okay, maybe it was, but the pig was alive and its wound would be attended to soon. So what was it?</p>
<p>It was only when she pulled into the parking lot of the address she’d typed into her gps and ran into the open clinic that she was finally able to understand her mysterious dread. She looked at the face of the man who had welcomed her in and was now working at stitching up Olivia’s soft belly--Olivia being surprisingly quiet despite her earlier behavior (Aurora suspected that taking her pain had also helped in calming her down). The man worked quietly, never once taking his gaze off of the small pig on the table. Aside from when she had first walked in, the man hadn’t looked up at Aurora once since he began working, and Aurora was beginning to feel anxiety creep up on her--a feeling that must have been apparent on her face.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, this isn’t the first time little Olivia has visited my office.” He smiled at Aurora without looking up, seemingly focused on snipping the string he was using. “You aren’t the usual caretaker--did something happen to Mr. Holden--Miss? I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Uhm...Aurora. Aurora Molina.” Aurora was hesitant to respond, but realized if she was going to ask him the questions she wanted, she would have to be honest. “And nothing happened. He just canceled I guess.”</p>
<p>“Ah well, I wouldn’t worry too much. You are definitely not the first sitter of Olivia’s to show up this late at night.” He finally looked up at Aurora and smiled at her, his eye contact intense and making Aurora squirm under it.</p>
<p>“Uhm. Sorry, what was your name? I didn’t see it out front when I rushed in.” Aurora asked, taking a seat on a stool that stood in the corner of the room. If he was going to know who she was, then she sure as hell was going to confirm who he was.</p>
<p>“Dr. Alan Deaton.” He stuck out his hand for Aurora to shake. “But you can call me Deaton.”</p>
<p><em>Confirmed</em>.</p>
<p>Deaton walked back to his supply cabinet and removed his gloves, throwing them in the trash. Turning to face Aurora and a very calm Olivia, he began to bandage her stitches.</p>
<p>“I hope you don’t mind me asking,” Deaton started up again. “But you just moved here didn’t you?”</p>
<p>Aurora gave him a concerned look. How would he know that?</p>
<p>“Small town.” He responded, almost as if reading her mind. Aurora looked at him for a few seconds before responding. He might have been at the top of Marisol’s parent’s contact list, but was it possible he was a supernatural being as well? She didn’t sense him, but then again, most could not sense her.</p>
<p>“Yes. I moved into town two days ago with my cousin.”</p>
<p>“You and your...cousin--you've been moving around quite a bit these past few years haven't you?” Deacon asked, though it sounded more like a statement than a question. He gave her a knowing gaze--he had played his card, and now it was her turn.</p>
<p>Aurora did her best to keep her heart rate level in case anyone else was listening, “Yes, it’s been a long time since we’ve had a proper home to call our own.”</p>
<p>“You both came from Delaware, didn't you?”</p>
<p>“We did.” Aurora glanced up from watching him wrap Olivia's stomach, catching the intense look from the doctor.</p>
<p>“It's a shame what happened a few years back--the massacre. Heard it was a gruesome bear attack--that there were no survivors.” Deacon could sense that Aurora knew more about him and Beacon Hills than she let on, but he had also done a little research for himself. It hadn’t taken long to learn who the two traveling females were--to learn what they were, and who they were looking for. He finished by putting tape around the bandages so it wouldn't come loose. “But that’s not exactly what happened, was it? I’ve heard rumors that there was one survivor--one who slaughtered them all.”</p>
<p>Aurora was having trouble breathing. Why did she think she would be able to come here and get answers without having to drag up the past. <em>It was naive you foolish woman</em>, she berated herself. She stood up from the stool she had placed herself on and walked toward the examination table, ready to lay her cards down. She held Deaton’s glare as she reached out towards Olivia, settling her hand above the bandage, absorbing any pain she felt, her veins turning the tell-tale black.</p>
<p>“What are you doing in Beacon Hills?” Deaton asked bluntly.</p>
<p>“Seemed like a good place to settle down, plant some roots. We are tired of moving and I want to give Marisol some stability as she finishes her Senior year.”</p>
<p>“These kids have been through much in a short time--,”</p>
<p>“As have we.” Aurora interrupted. She carefully picked up Olivia and cradled her in her arms, scratching her head softly, “You were the second emergency contact for both our emissary and my Alpha. They obviously held great respect for you...it's probably foolish, but I hope that if I trust you, you will trust me.”</p>
<p>Deaton looked over her face, searching for any tell that she was lying, watching as her stance lost some of the confidence from before. Deciding to hear what she had to say, he nodded.</p>
<p>“There were two massacres. That's what the reports are missing.” Aurora had to pause. In all their traveling, she had never opened up to anyone about what had happened. After Delaware she had grown cold and cynical, never telling anyone the whole truth and always distrusting of others. She wasn’t surprised there was a rumor going around that she had been the cause of the massacre--the one who’d killed them all. She looked Deaton straight in the eye, “Long story short Doc, they killed my family--took all I had--ended countless lives for their own sick pleasure...so I ended theirs.”</p>
<p>Deaton knew that look. He had seen it on another, so focused on the revenge that fueled their anger. “And your cousin?”</p>
<p>It was almost an immediate reaction--all the anger and hate replaced with regret and guilt. Aurora dropped the act and let it show how tired she was--tired of hiding, and pretending, and running. “The daughter of my pack’s emissaries. We’re all each other has left. We’ve been searching for answers for why the attack happened, and looking for a stable place to live. That’s the only reason we’re here, I promise you.”</p>
<p>“And what of Scott McCall and his pack?” Deacon asked.</p>
<p>Aurora wasn't sure she knew how to answer. She wanted to say she wanted nothing to do with them--she wouldn't exactly be lying. There was nothing she had to lie about, but Aurora still took a few moments to compose her thoughts, “I come in peace, I wish no harm on them. I do wish to hold onto our secret for a few days more. I ask that you don’t reveal us to him, I would like to be the one to tell him, alpha to alpha.”</p>
<p>“Did you ask for Marisol to make friends with Scott on her first day or was that just luck?”</p>
<p>Aurora couldn’t help but let out a laugh, surprised that even the vet doctor had heard of her cousin. “I asked, but believed that it would take longer to do so.”</p>
<p>Deaton sat down on a stool, motioning for Aurora to do the same, “Do you have any questions for me?”</p>
<p>“Many, for now I wish to know what Scott is like? The one I need the answer to now is do you trust him?”</p>
<p>“It would be hard not to when he saved my life quite recently.” There was a pause before he continued, “I knew Moira. Met with her many times. She was different in that her pack was always growing, always changing. She was good.”</p>
<p>“The greatest.” Aurora said softly. She quietly stood there rocking Olivia back and forth as she thought about her past Alpha. Deaton made himself busy with putting everything away.</p>
<p>“Do you think we can discuss this further another time? The Bernstein’s will be returning soon.”</p>
<p>“Of course, you can always reach me here.” Deaton handed her a card before motioned towards the door and Aurora didn't have to be told twice, “Actually, if I may ask one more question? Who was your first contact?”</p>
<p>Aurora looked up and replied, “Talia Hale. Thanks for fixing Olivia, goodnight Doc.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marisol goes for a run through the woods to help calm her mind, and finds herself bumping into another from Scott's pack. Awkwardness ensues.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>Marisol panted heavily as she came to a slow from her jog. Now walking instead, she took deep breaths as she placed her hands over her head--in...out...in...out. She’d tried to calm her heart rate after leaving the house, but she was too emotional for control--always too emotional. Goddammit. Too emotional and too trusting and too weak. And so instead, she’d ran. Ran away from her thoughts, ran away from her problems, ran away from who she was supposed to be. She’d tried so hard to be like Aurora--strong, independent, brave, cunning. But in the end, she’d always failed. Always falling back into Aurora, too afraid to step up to the plate. Why was she always so afraid? What was it she was afraid of? A cowardly werewolf--now there was one for the books.</p>
<p>The thoughts started to creep in again, so Marisol started jogging once more, picking up the pace as she went, thinking if she ran faster, maybe it would somehow fix everything. She ran hard, and she ran free. Maybe this is what she should do--run. But this time away. No more looking for answers. No more looking for a real home. No more looking for who she was. Just away--away from it all. The music blasting loud in her ears, Marisol ran and ran, eyes shut closed and feeling the night breeze against her sweat soaked skin. Suddenly, she collided with another body--hard and fast, knocking both to the ground.</p>
<p>“Shit!” Marisol let out a loud yelp, surprised that anyone other than her would be walking along the path in the woods. “Shit. I’m so sorry! I didn’t see or hear you!”</p>
<p>“Yeah no shit. How would you even hear me through the music blaring in your ears.” The person stood up, dusting themselves off and shaking their head. Marisol looked down at where her headphones were laying on the ground. They were at max volume and it sounded almost like it was playing through the phone speakers instead--it was what she did when she needed to block everything else out. Being too emotional always made her hypersensitive to sounds and smells--running in the woods with her music at full volume seemed like a good way to counteract that. She looked up from where she was sitting on the ground, a familiar scent catching her nose. It was too dark to see the other person, but she recognized the smell of shampoo.</p>
<p>“Stiles?”</p>
<p>“What?” Stiles squinted at Marisol trying to make out her face, to see who it was. “Wait, who are you?”</p>
<p>“Uh...Marisol...from Bio…” Marisol realized she hadn’t actually been introduced to him and she didn’t think bumping into him in the main office counted as knowing each other.</p>
<p>“I don’t know you…” Stiles said awkwardly. “I also can’t see you so how the hell do you even know me?”</p>
<p>“Sorry…” Marisol stood up from the floor. “I was...uhm Scott’s partner. The new girl...I bumped into you in the office...then stole your lab partner? Scott...told me your name.”</p>
<p>“Oh! Right. Okay, cool.” Feeling suddenly reassured, Stiles changed his demeanor, trying to be friendlier and less defensive. He’d remembered how the new girl had disappeared from the main office after the late bell rang, not letting him fully apologize for almost knocking her over--only to appear in his biology class next to a very smiley Scott. “I guess this is just payback then?”</p>
<p>“Huh?”</p>
<p>“For earlier? You know...when I nearly knocked you over in the main office?”</p>
<p>“Oh!” Marisol dusted herself off, picking up the headphones from the floor. “Uh...no. Not really?”</p>
<p>“What are you even doing out here so late?” Stiles asked, squinting hard, trying to find her face in the darkness of the woods, only the soft light of the moon coming in through the trees.</p>
<p>“It’s only 8pm…” Marisol said slowly. “And I was just out for a jog.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well 8pm is late for a ….Wednesday.”</p>
<p>“Well, what are you doing out here anyway? Are you also out for a jog trying to run away from your feelings?” Marisol started to walk down the path again, leaving Stiles behind to follow.</p>
<p>“For your information, this happens to be a shortcut to my house.” Stiles said matter-of-factly. “And I was just...walking. I dunno. Don’t you go on walks? Don’t people like to go outside anymore? What’s with all the questions?”</p>
<p>“Ohhh-kay.” Marisol laughed, shaking her head. “I won’t ask any more. I promise”</p>
<p>“Well, wait!” Stiles jogged after her, wanting to still apologize for the morning and talk to her a bit more--Scott had seemed to like her and Lydia had even invited her to lunch, so who was she? “What did you mean by ‘running away from your feelings’?”</p>
<p>“Ohhhhh. So you get to ask questions? But not me? Hmm okay.” Marisol said in a playful tone. “Do I actually have to answer them though?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Marisol threw him a glare. “No...not really...just like...I guess I’m asking if everything’s okay?”</p>
<p>“Oh.” Marisol felt that comforting feeling once again--the same one she’d felt with Scott, with Lydia. “Yeah, I was just trying to be funny…”</p>
<p>“Funny huh? Well what if I had been running away from my feelings? What would you have said then? It wouldn’t have been very funny.”</p>
<p>“No, you’re right, it wouldn’t have.” Marisol looked at him, wondering what he was all about. <em>It’s him. He’s the human</em>. “I guess I would have apologized for being insensitive and then asked you what was wrong and if you wanted to talk about.”</p>
<p>“Hmm well now that you mention it…” Stiles chuckled lightly. “Lydia said you were joining us for lunch tomorrow?”</p>
<p>“She did?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, she sent out a chain text. Here.” Stiles pulled out his phone from his pocket and read the message out loud. “I asked the new girl to have lunch with us tomorrow. She’s shy and awkward--so BE NICE!”</p>
<p>Marisol’s eyes opened wide in terror and embarrassment, Stiles just smiled at her, his face illuminated by the light from his phone. “Great...at least you’ll know what to expect from me.”</p>
<p>“Come on! She didn’t mean anything bad by it. She just likes to make sure we’re on our best behavior. Especially me.”</p>
<p>“Do you typically have bad behavior?” Marisol kept walking, wondering if he was going to follow her home or part ways at some point--the former seeming more and more likely as they got closer to the main road which led up to the new house.</p>
<p>“Nah. Well not <em>bad<em> behavior. More… inquisitive? Interrogatory? Questioning?”</em></em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Annoying?” Marisol chuckled.</p>
<p>“See, well now that’s just mean. Maybe you’re the one that needs to be on her best behavior.” Stiles feigned offense.</p>
<p>Marisol just laughed, enjoying the playful banter and feeling more confident about meeting everyone tomorrow. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as she thought it was going to be. Maybe they would open up to her and let her be a part of their group. And maybe--just maybe--once she proved to Aurora that they were good people, they wouldn’t have to hide from them, or keep secrets. She felt guilty thinking of how nice everyone had been to her and how she was really the one being secretive--hiding who she really was from them.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry. I was only teasing.” She smiled at him as they started on the main road, both of them now illuminated by the street lights. Stiles looked over at her and took her in--long dark brown hair, a nose bigger than most--<em>was she this short when I bumped into her in the office</em>? Then he looked at her eyes and his breath hitched unexpectedly--they were a deep dark brown and when they matched with her smile, he felt...well he felt <em>something</em>.</p>
<p>“Ha, yeah. I know. I mean, not that I’m not annoying--I know I can be--that’s what most people describe me as anyway--<em>overwhelming</em>, actually is the word they use the most. Though I think Derek has a few other favorites he likes to call me.” He started rambling, feeling weird at his sudden attraction and admiration for the girl--he didn’t even know her, and how come she hadn’t seemed this pretty when he saw her at school?</p>
<p>“Derek?” Marisol asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.</p>
<p>“Hmm? Oh, just a friend. Kinda. More of a--uhm--acquaintance that you kinda hate but also kinda love? Not really part of the pack, but still always there?” Stiles squinted, cocking his head to the side, wondering how she could even be following along and why he couldn’t just shut his mouth for once.</p>
<p>“Part of the pack, huh?” Marisol chuckled at his slip of words. “You sound like wolves...but I get that. I think we all have people like that at some point in our lives.”</p>
<p>“Uhh. yeah I guess.” Stiles scratched his head, looking around and realizing that he’d followed her out from the woods and away from his house. “Anyway, you never really answered.”</p>
<p>“Answered what?”</p>
<p>“Why were you in the woods? Running? By yourself? In the dark?”</p>
<p>“I was just on a jog.” Marisol responded, not wanting to get into detail about her fight with Aurora--especially not with a stranger, and definitely not with a stranger she was supposed to befriend. “I like running at night--it clears the mind.”</p>
<p>Stiles didn’t feel like that had been a satisfactory answer--how does a girl go out running in the woods alone in a town like Beacon Hills? But he also didn’t want to prod too much before lunch tomorrow. That’s when they’d really get to know her--what she was all about, where she came from, who she was. At this point she seemed harmless--and human, like him, but he knew better than to just trust appearances, even if they were nice to look at.</p>
<p>“I just have new home-slash-new school-slash-new life jitters...Makes me nervous when I have to start over again.” Marisol had sensed his discomfort at her first answer and figured she’d answer with a half-truth. “Especially when I have to make friends.”</p>
<p>“Well you’re not doing too bad in that department--you have Scott and Lydia on your side already.” Marisol noted how he hadn’t mentioned himself and felt disappointment creep up in her chest. “You’ll be fine. Beacon hills...is...well, never lacking in anything interesting.”</p>
<p>“That is...good to know, I suppose.”</p>
<p>“Plus, a nice, pretty girl like you--you shouldn’t have any problems making friends.” Stiles said, awkwardly looking forward instead of at Marisol. “So where exactly is your house?”</p>
<p>“Just a few streets down.” Marisol hadn’t missed his “pretty” comment and was suddenly grateful for the sweat and heat on her face that covered her blush. The disappointed feeling gone--he might not want to be her friend, but he thought she was nice <em>and</em> pretty.“I live with my cousin in the old Hartford’s home.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Didn’t they like, die in there?”</p>
<p>“Mm-hmmm. But it’s not that creepy, and I have definitely lived in weirder.”</p>
<p>“Not sure what can be weirder.” They came to stop as Marisol turned to him, unsure of how to say goodbye, or if she really wanted to. Maybe she could invite him in? No, that would be weird, plus she didn’t know how things were going to go when Aurora came back and she had to find some way to make things better.</p>
<p>“Well, this is it. Thanks for unknowingly walking me home.” Marisol smiled at him.</p>
<p>“Yeah! Anytime.” Stiles laughed awkwardly. “I’ll uh--I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”</p>
<p>Marisol nodded at him and turned to walk into the house, giving him one last look before she walked through the door. He had his hands in his pockets and stood there smiling at her, waiting for her to go in, and there it was again--that comforting feeling that nagged at Marisol’s brain. <em>There’s no way Scott McCall is evil</em>.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter Six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After their argument, Marisol and Aurora both seek ways to make it up to each other.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marisol stepped into the dark house and sighed, leaning against the door. It seemed almost scary how quickly she’d met Scott and his friends--one right after the other, in the same day. Was it just a coincidence? Or did they maybe have their own suspicions of the new girl in town? Or maybe, they were all just that close and only looking out for each other? Marisol preferred to think it was the latter, at least this way it showed they were a strong pack--loyal and caring--a good reflection of the leader of the pack. She thought back to Scott and how he had seemed so overprotective of Stiles and wondered if maybe something had happened in the past that led him to be this way. Yeah, Stiles came off as goofy and scatter-brained, but he didn’t exactly seem like a weak link. In fact, Marisol had to admit she was kind of intimidated by him, though maybe that had more to do with her thinking he was handsome, and less so about him being actually tough. </p>
<p>A soft meow was heard from the floor, Emy, circling Marisol’s feet, trying to tempt her into following her to the couch for some tv and pets time. Marisol smiled and picked up the cat, taking her upstairs to her bedroom instead. It was almost 9pm and Aurora still wasn’t home. <i>I guess she took that pig-sitting job after all</i>. She set Emy down on the bed and pet her for a few minutes before getting up and heading to the shower. If Aurora wasn’t home by the time she was out, then she’d go out for some junk food and wait for her to come home--it would do well as a peace offering. </p>
<p>Just as Marisol got into the shower, the front door downstairs opened and Aurora walked in, repeating almost the same movements Marisol had done, only this time, no Emy to greet her. She heard the shower running and realized that Marisol must have come home. <i>Great. What will I say</i>? She wasn’t the best at apologizing, and this was really the first time she ever had to--at least with Marisol. And what she’d done would be deemed by most as unforgivable--but she also knew Marisol better than that and knew that she herself was probably practicing her own apology, even if she didn’t need to. Turning back towards the door, she opened it and walked straight to her car with the plan of going by the closest Burger King and picking up as many orders of chicken nuggets as she good--<i>a peace offering</i>. 
She drove for a while, mulling over her encounter from before, trying to distract herself from her fight with Marisol. It hadn’t really been a fight, but it sure as hell felt like one, and she’d rather concern herself with the words of a stranger than with the guilt she felt for hurting her friend. She’d finally found the man Marisol had been searching for and he’d only confirmed for her what Marisol had told her--Scott McCall was a good boy. He was young and brash, but pure hearted and brave, and always, <i>always</i>, there for his friends--he valued family and love above power and strength. The one thing she wanted confirmed--confirmed. If only she’d believed Marisol. But this was better than just a vibe. This was concrete--straight from the mouth of Marisol’s mom’s most trusted contact, not to mention that of Moira’s. If there was anyone that Aurora trusted above all others, it was her three-year deceased Alpha. </p>
<p>She turned on her left hand signal and drove into the Burger King parking lot, pulling up to the window and ordering 10 orders of chicken nuggets--they’d probably only eat two, but leftovers were becoming their most popular meal lately. She grabbed the bag and drove back, wondering if it had been wise of her to disclose their truth to the veterinarian. He’d seemed trustworthy enough to be trusted by the two most wise and powerful people she knew, so it seemed only fitting that she trust him as well. Not to mention that the clear affection and care he had for the boy Scott made him seem less of a threat and more of an ally. He’d willingly disclosed information about Scott only on Aurora’s word that they meant no harm in coming to Beacon Hills and that they only wanted a fresh start. All this going through her mind, she realized that perhaps she’d made the right choice in choosing this town to be their home--to be Marisol’s home. Maybe here she’d be able to reach her full potential and would be alright on her own. If Aurora was being honest, the werewolf life was starting to weigh on her--she wished once again, like she had so many years ago when she was first bit--to live a life free of these responsibilities, free of all the pain, and above all, free to love and travel as she wished. 
She parked in the driveway and shut the car off, wondering how long she could wait out here before it got weird and before it got too late and Marisol just went to bed. It was only then that she realized that Marisol’s car was missing. Had she left because she’d heard her come in? Maybe she didn’t want to make-up or talk about what happened? Maybe she was still too upset to talk to her? Aurora tried to calm down, not used to having Marisol be angry at her, and even less used to having her leave the house when she was like that. Just then, she saw a figure coming up on the driveway. <i>Oh no</i>.</p>
<p>Marisol peaked in through the window and stared at Aurora for a good while before lifting her hand and showing off the plastic bag she was holding. “I bought donut holes. I’m sorry I talked back to you and then barged out.” </p>
<p>Aurora sighed and got out of the car, holding her bag of chicken nuggets. “You don’t need to apologize--you didn’t do anything wrong. What I said was way out of line and I should have never brought that up. I understand if you need space and want to be angry at me--you have that right. I just want you to know how sorry and regretful I am that I said something so hurtful.” </p>
<p>Marisol stayed looking down, unable to say anything. She was always unable to say what she really felt--she’d learned to hold things in and just carry on as if things were okay, no use in burdening others with her problems. She nodded--defeated--holding all the things she had wanted to say. “It’s okay.”</p>
<p>Aurora stayed quiet, wishing Marisol would say something more, wishing she’d yell at her or throw the donut holes one-by-one at her face. But nothing happened, until-- “Are those chicken nuggets for me, or were you planning on eating them all yourself?” </p>
<p>Aurora smiled softly, “I couldn’t if I tried.” </p>
<p>They spent the rest of the night watching tv and talking about their days--Marisol letting her know that despite being in all the advanced classes, she was already caught up on her reading and ready for her upcoming exams; Aurora telling her about the tea-cup pig and showing her all the pictures she took with it. She’d decided it was best to leave out the part about Deaton, thinking maybe it would strike a nerve that she trusted a stranger over Marisol. <i>Maybe tomorrow, when things have gotten better</i>.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter Seven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pancakes and a little more insight into Aurora and Marisol's past and motivations.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marisol woke with a start, her body drenched in sweat and limbs shaking--another nightmare. They’d started happening more and more frequently since deciding to move to Beacon Hills, and while she’d kept them hidden from Aurora, each night they were getting worse and worse. She looked over at her clock and seeing it was only 5:30 in the morning, she decided to stay in bed a little longer, petting Emy who was now asleep, curled up next to her stomach. It’d been a while since she’d had nightmares, especially ones about Sean, and now she wondered why they were happening all over again. <i>I was supposed to be better</i>.</p>
<p>Getting up from the bed and trying not to wake Emy, she went to her closet to pick out her clothes before getting into the shower--again. She stepped in the shower, remembering what her old therapist had taught her to do whenever the nightmares happened, and whenever they felt real--<i>remind yourself of what is real, of what your life is like now, not then</i>.</p>
<p>“Emy. Aurora. Beacon Hills.” Marisol repeated over and over quietly as the warm water hit the back of her head. “He is dead. I am not. Emy. Aurora. Beacon Hills.”</p>
<p>She still couldn’t bring herself to say his name, and after the incident last night, she felt upset that he still held so much power over her--what good was it being afraid of a name. <i>Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself</i>.  But sometimes she felt like saying it would bring him back. As if saying it out loud would raise him from his grave and lead him straight to her--to all she had left of herself and her family. “Emy. Aurora. Beacon Hills.”</p>
<p>She’d only been 15 when it happened, and not only did she have to deal with the trauma of a sexual assault, she had to deal with the changes that came from being bitten--a two for one deal, she thought. Everything that happened after came so quickly that she hardly had time to process what had happened to her--the change, the full moon, the fight, the deaths--and then after a little over a year of travelling with Aurora, she finally broke. Sixteen years old and she was full of trauma and pain of the past, not to mention the fear of the future. She used to wake up screaming in the middle of the night, Aurora rushing to her bedside to calm her, explaining to the neighbors that everything was okay--it was only a nightmare. But it never did quite feel like just a nightmare--it was real life, repeating itself over and over again, reminding her of just how much she’d lost. “Emy. Aurora. Beacon Hills.”</p>
<p>Then they’d found Emy. She’d shown up on the porch of a small home they'd lived in while staying in Michigan--she was stick thin and dirty, not to mention terrified of everything. “She’s just like me!” Marisol had joked, and Aurora agreed they could keep her. It took a while for Emy to bond with them, always alert and hissing at them, sensing their wolf nature, but Marisol was persistent and showed her all the love and care she could, winning her over in the end. Now she slept in her bed every night and hardly left the house--a chubby, playful, and loving cat is what she’d become. The three of them had since traveled the country together--staying in no one place for more than 5 months. Always on the move, always looking for answers.</p>
<p>Today, Marisol would get some. Well, in regards to Scott anyway. She’d try to make a good impression and maybe they’d want to be her friend and she could once and for all confirm to Aurora what he was all about. Marisol stopped for a second, and closed her eyes. “Emy. Aurora. Beacon Hills. Scott. Lydia.”</p>
<p>With that she stepped out of the shower, checking her phone to see what time it was and whether it was late enough for her to make her way to school--it wasn’t. But downstairs she could hear the sound of Aurora bustling through the kitchen, and the smell of bacon wafting up the stairs. She smiled to herself thinking about how Aurora must have heard her getting up and thought she’d be a real parent for once and make her a home cooked breakfast--not that Marisol had any issue with eating cereal every morning, but bacon was definitely a nice touch. She dried herself off and gathered her things for school before heading down into the kitchen to tease Aurora about making breakfast.</p>
<p>“Wow, guilt really does wonders for your parenting skills.” Marisol laughed. Aurora looked back at her, a horrified look on her face. “Relax, I’m only joking.”</p>
<p>“Even so, it isn’t funny.” Aurora turned back to flip over a pancake and to turn the bacon on its other side. “I can’t even apologize enough and no amount of pancakes and bacon will ever make up for it.”</p>
<p>“That’s true, but you can try.” Marisol took out some strawberries from the fridge and started cutting them up, also starting up the coffee maker. “I wouldn’t mind eating pancakes for breakfast everyday...though I think my belly might.”</p>
<p>“Your belly is fine.” Aurora responded, taking out two mugs from the cupboard. “Besides you need all the energy you can get today before your anxiety makes you burn it all off. Calm down girl, you reek.”</p>
<p>“Sorry. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” Marisol mumbled.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I heard you get up early to shower.” Marisol wondered if Aurora had also heard her talking to herself, and wished that for once, Aurora would mind her business when it came to caring after her. “Didn’t you shower last night too?”</p>
<p>“Mmm yeah. But I got sweaty last night.” Marisol tried to sound nonchalant. “If I’m going to make a good first impression, I should probably smell good.”</p>
<p>“That’s true, I guess. Though maybe you might want to get your anxiety under control. Scott might not be able to sense you’re a werewolf, but he sure as hell will be able to smell all that.” Aurora signaled all of Marisol, pointing with the spoon she was using to stir the coffee.</p>
<p>“Eh, he already thinks I’m awkward.”</p>
<p>“He does?”</p>
<p>“Probably.”</p>
<p>“Well, that’s not exactly a bad thing, I suppose. But even then, try to keep your emotions in check, won’t you?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I will.” Marisol responded, placing two plates on the kitchen table. It’d taken her months of practice to be able to mask her werewolf scent, and even after that, it was twice as hard for her to be able to mask that and her emotional scents. She always had to prioritize, and after the years passed, she figured masking who she was, was more important than masking how she felt. She’d rather Scott think she was just a nervous person than know she was lying to them and consider her a threat.</p>
<p>The two ate breakfast in silence, each contemplating the day they had before them. Aurora had reached out to Deaton again late last night when she couldn’t sleep, thoughts swimming through her head and paranoia trying to take over. He’d agreed to meet with her this morning to discuss all he knew about Marisol’s parents and about Moira, and in return, Aurora would tell him everything she knew about Sean and his pack, and just what her intentions were here in Beacon Hills. She figured that someone who cared so much about a young teenage wolf-boy, couldn’t really be all that bad, and would maybe make for a powerful ally.</p>
<p>She wondered if maybe he would have any insight as to what it was that Sean had wanted from Moira--or what it was that he wanted from Marisol’s parents. Had the emissary's known something that they’d kept hidden from the rest of the pack? Moira was always open with her betas, but if it was something dangerous, she may have wanted to keep it under wraps. Sean had gone out of his way to target Marisol, and aside from her parents, Aurora didn’t know anyone in the pack who really even knew the girl before she was bitten. And even then, most were dead before she even came forward about her change--her parents and even Moira had kept it a secret from everyone except Aurora and another older beta named Alfred. They were to train her and help her reach her full potential in the pack, but it lasted all of one week before Sean had called for a meeting with the pack, resulting in the biggest bloodbath Aurora had ever witnessed, and awakening in her, an anger so deep and so destructive. Perhaps Deaton would understand when she told him the pain she felt watching her pack fall--one by one--until she and Marisol were the only ones left. A beta and a fifteen year old. All alone, with nothing and no one.</p>
<p>“Do you think it’s smart to keep who we are a secret from Scott and his friends?” Marisol interrupted Aurora’s thoughts, her plate now clean and a frown written on her brow. “I feel guilty that they’ve been so nice.”</p>
<p>“It’s the smart thing for now.” Aurora sighed. “We can figure out how to tell them once we know more about them. Hopefully by then, they won’t see you as a threat and will be more willing to forgive our lie.”</p>
<p>“I hope so.” Marisol got up from the table and slung her backpack over her shoulders. “I better go. I was late yesterday and I don’t want to start school with a bad reputation.”</p>
<p>“Only a nerd would think being late is a bad reputation.” Aurora teased her. Marisol stuck her tongue out at her before turning the corner and disappearing out the front door, leaving Aurora alone, once again, with only her thoughts. Downing her cup of coffee, she got up and went to get dressed, eager to get to the vet clinic early to talk to Deaton as soon as she could. She had questions and she wanted answers.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marisol sits with the pack at lunchtime and is introduced to Kira and Malia. Stiles is still suspicious about the new girl, especially after last night, but he seems to be the only one.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Realizing this weeks and last weeks chapters were a little short, we have decided to grant you all with a second chapter posted today (it's still Thursday for us). Please enjoy. Kudos and comments are much appreciated. Thank you.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marisol sat out in the courtyard on a round cement structure that served as both a seating place and a planter for the big tree in the middle. She sat cross-legged, reading over her notes for Biology before the first bell rang. After getting home from her jog and walking with Stiles, she’d finished up the lab they’d done in class the day before, having told Scott not to worry about it being her first day and that she didn’t mind doing the work. Really, she always preferred to do that, and while Scott seemed dedicated to his classwork, she wasn’t sure she was ready to hang her first grade at the new school on someone she’d just met.</p>
<p>Her phone went off with a notification from instagram, alerting her that someone had requested to follow her. She opened it up and checked to see someone by the name of Kira and before accepting, she decided she’d lurk her profile a bit. Oh….she’s dating Scott. Marisol felt a small pang of disappointment, but then reminded herself that a cute boy was nothing more than that, plus she was nowhere near ready to be in a relationship with someone, much less a boy--not after what had happened with Sean. Wow, she’s really pretty, she thought to herself, fighting the urge to like her pictures, and fighting the smile that crept up on her face when she came across a particularly cute selfie. Hitting “accept” Marisol turned her phone off and continued reading her notes and book until the bell rang.</p>
<p>From across the quad, Stiles stood leaning against a light pole, hands pulling at his backpack strings, watching Marisol intently. After their walk last night, Stiles had been unable to sleep feeling like maybe something was off about her. She seemed nice enough, but he couldn’t nudge the feeling that there had to be something wrong. <i>Why was she jogging in the woods at night? Normal people don’t do that, right? And how did she know it was me when it was pitch black out there? And what kind of people move into a home where someone died? And then not even be remotely creeped out by it?</i> But after tossing and turning, he came to the conclusion that maybe what bothered him was that she was normal--no werewolf, kitsune, banshee, supernatural being--just a normal human girl who didn’t know the dangers of their town.</p>
<p>“I don’t know man. I feel like maybe we have to be more wary.” He turned back to look at the girl that stood behind him, leaning against a wall of lockers.</p>
<p>“Wary? At least a third of her instagram photos are of her cat.” The girl showed him her phone, scrolling through the pictures of Emy sleeping that Marisol always tagged with #mysleepybaby. “And she doesn’t even have many followers. Honestly...she seems like a loner. NOT that I mean that in a bad way, just like...a shy girl. Lonely. Doesn’t have many friends. You know? Like, maybe she needs them?”</p>
<p>Stiles shook his head, “Yeah, I think that’s what bothers me.”</p>
<p>“It bothers you that she doesn’t have any friends?”</p>
<p>“It bothers me that we’re trying to be the friends.” Stiles crossed his arms. “Kira, what if something happens again? How do we explain to someone totally normal, totally innocent to the ways of beacon-friggin’-supernatural-hills?”</p>
<p>“Maybe we won’t need to?” Kira smiled a tight lipped smile, trying to sound hopeful.</p>
<p>“The way our lives work, I don’t think that’s even a remote possibility.” Stiles turned back to look at Marisol who was now standing from the block and gathering her things. “What happens if she gets hurt?”</p>
<p>“She won’t.” Kira put a hand on his arm, surprised but pleased to see Stiles caring about the safety of someone they barely knew. Normally he was weary of all others, defensive of his pack. “We won’t let her.”</p>
<p>With that the bell rang. Kira turned Stiles away from where he stood, Marisol now long gone and inside the halls of the high school. “Come on. You don’t want to be late to your class again. Plus, Scott said he wanted to meet up before you had Bio together.”</p>
<p>Stiles turned away following Kira down the hall, still unable to shake the feeling that letting this girl into their group was a bad idea. </p>
<p>Marisol stepped into the classroom only a few seconds after the bell rang, making her the first person there, besides the teacher.</p>
<p>“Oh good morning, Marisol--is it?” The teacher said brightly, setting up the projector and writing the day’s assignments on the board.</p>
<p>Marisol nodded. “Is there assigned seating, or do I pick a desk?”</p>
<p>“Oh! That’s right. Normally no there is no assigned seating, but kids kinda pick their seats and stick to them throughout the year. Let me check if there is a seat available for you, if not, you can just tack onto the same table with Scott and Stiles.” The teacher went to her desk and opened up a binder, searching for her seating chart. “Hmm it looks like there is no one sitting at the lab table in the back anymore since those two students have been absent for a few days.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Did they transfer? They won’t be upset if they come and their seat is taken?” Marisol asked unsure.</p>
<p>“Remember, there’s no assigned seating.” The teacher shrugged. “You snooze, you lose.”</p>
<p>With that she went back to writing on the board and Marisol took her things to the back table and sat down, opening her text book to the page the teacher had written on the board and reading while the rest of her new classmates trickled in. She was looking forward to lunch, but was unsure of how to act before then. Did they all know that she was going to join them? Stiles had mentioned Lydia sent them a message--would they talk to her until then? Or just pretend they didn’t know? It wasn’t like they knew Stiles had told her about the group text. Stop over thinking. She breathed in deeply and kept reading, writing notes down in her notebook and waiting for the teacher to start the lesson. After a while, she could feel someone’s eyes on her and looking up, she saw Stiles in his regular seat next to Scott--his hands folded in his lap and his eyes squinting at her. He gave her a head nod and turned to whisper something to Scott, and against her better judgement, Marisol tuned in to what they were saying.</p>
<p>“ I just don’t know if I want someone new in our group you know?”</p>
<p>“Stiles, we’re just trying to reach out to someone and make them feel welcome. Besides, we brought in Liam and Mason into our group--you didn’t complain then.”</p>
<p>“Actually, I did. Many time. Multiple times. No one ever listens to me.”</p>
<p>“That’s not true--I listen to you….sometimes.”</p>
<p>“Well listen to me now, okay? I don’t feel good about it. She’s nice...but something is off.”</p>
<p>Stiles looked back at Marisol, who was still looking down at her book, pretending to be engrossed in the chapter she was reading on the growth rate of bacteria. She tried to hide her disappointment. She’d felt like yesterday things had gone well with Stiles--he’d laughed at her jokes and even walked her home--on accident of course, but he didn’t need to walk with her in the first place. She tried to convince herself that he was just being overprotective and that in reality he had a right to be suspicious because she was hiding something, but ultimately, she let  her one big fear take over her thoughts--<i>I’m not good enough</i>. It was the recurring thought in her head ever since the incident in Delaware. She hadn’t been strong enough to fight off Sean. She hadn’t been responsible enough to be told her family’s truth. She hadn’t been smart enough to know better than to be with a boy 4 years older than her. She hadn’t been intuitive enough to know he was evil. Never enough. And now, she wasn’t good enough to make new friends.</p>
<p>Scott looked back at her, a frown forming on his face.</p>
<p>“What? What’s wrong? What is it?” Stiles nagged at him.</p>
<p>“She...she’s sad?” Scott looked back at Stiles.</p>
<p>“Sad? What--how do you even know that?”</p>
<p>“I can smell it.” Scott turned back to face the front, feeling saddened that someone who had seemed so sweet could feel such pain. “It’s strong.”</p>
<p>“Well, shit. Now I feel like an asshole.”</p>
<p>“No, you’re not. You didn’t know.”</p>
<p>“I just... “ Stiles hesitated. “ I just feel that something is wrong. And I don’t know if that’s because she’s human and I don’t want to involve anyone I don’t have to in our--crazy, dangerous, and always close to death--life, or if… something is genuinely wrong.”</p>
<p>“Maybe. We’ll just have to wait and see at lunch. Find out what the feeling really is and go from there.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Stiles looked back at Marisol one more time. “Maybe.” </p>
<p>With only 20 minutes of class left, Scott walked over to Marisol when it was time to finish up their lab report, hoping that she had gotten to do the project at home and feeling guilty that he hadn’t been there to help. She looked up at him and gave him a small smile, scooting over so that he could sit next to her on one of the stools.</p>
<p>“So, uhm...were you able to finish the report?” Scott asked, embarrassed that he hadn’t offered to come over and work on it, or even stayed after school.</p>
<p>“Yeah. It wasn’t really that much and I stayed after school to catch up on other things anyway.”</p>
<p>“Oh, are you really behind in classes since you just moved here?”</p>
<p>“I was. But not anymore.” Marisol smiled proudly.</p>
<p>“You caught up, all in one day?” Scott smiled at her, amazed at her dedication and wishing that he had the ability to do the same.</p>
<p>“What can I say? I’m a fast learner.” She laughed, knowing how long it had taken her to finally be able to control her werewolf form. She was fifteen when she finally learned how to control her shift, and almost sixteen when she had finally mastered masking her scent, along with many other abilities she had picked up on the way.</p>
<p>“Well, I promise not to let you do all the work next time.”</p>
<p>“Next time? I thought you and Stiles were already lab partners?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but I asked Mrs. Haverson and she said it would be okay if you joined our group.” Scott smiled brightly at her.</p>
<p>“Will Stiles be okay with that?” Marisol frowned, convinced the boy didn’t like her and wouldn’t be happy that she was intruding on their lab group.</p>
<p>“He’ll live.” Scott laughed, going through the pages of the lab packet. “Wow, you really did do all of it. You know we had time in class to work on it today, right?”</p>
<p>Marisol shrugged, “Yeah, but I like being ahead as much as I can. It makes things easier.”</p>
<p>Just then the bell rang, and the rest of the students scrambled to get their things and head out to their next class. Scott looked at Marisol and smiled.</p>
<p>“I’ll see you at lunch.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Sounds good.” </p>
<p>____________________________________________________________________________</p>
<p>It was ten minutes before lunch and Marisol could feel her heart about to burst out of her chest. Her head was pounding and she couldn’t stop her legs from bouncing up and down in anticipation. Lydia had told her where to meet in the quad, but she somehow felt like she’d get lost and not know where to find them and they would think she was a complete idiot and make fun of her. Calm down. <i>That’s not going to happen</i>. She watched the hands on the clock move slowly, making each second feel longer than the last. She had to calm down if she was going to make a good impression. If she was going to come off as someone that they would want to know. She had to pretend to be cool so that they would like her, even though, deep down she wished that they would like her even if she wasn’t pretending.</p>
<p>The bell rang, signaling the end of class and sending all the students scrambling to run out the front door. Marisol moved slowly, however, taking her time putting her binder and notebook back in her backpack, pushing in her desk chair, saying goodbye to the teacher (even though his back was turned and he probably hadn’t even heard her). She walked slowly down the halls, making her way outside, knees shaking and hands trembling. She walked outside and squinted at the blinding sun, it was warm outside and that didn’t help the fact that she was sweating out her anxiety. <i>Maybe they won’t notice that I have pit stains</i>. Suddenly she heard her name.</p>
<p>“Marisol!” From across the quad, Lydia was taking a seat and waving over to Marisol, a smile on her face as she turned and said something to the group of friends she was with. Marisol started to make her way over to them, looking over at Stiles, who looked back at her and then shook his head. Maybe he didn’t want her there. Maybe how nice he’d been the other night was an act--to get to know her, to test her to see if she was worthy of being in their pack. Maybe she’d failed. Marisol swallowed hard as she neared the table.</p>
<p>“Hey, guys.” She tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace as she took a seat next to Lydia.</p>
<p>“So, now that you are here, I’ll introduce you to everyone, though I think you’ve already met Scott and Stiles.” Lydia smiled at her as she put down her books and turned to everyone. “Everyone, this is Marisol. Marisol this is Kira, Malia, aaaand...I guess that’s it.”</p>
<p>“Hi Marisol, it’s nice to meet you.” Marisol recognized Kira right away since she had earlier stalked her instagram profile. She had a bright smile and kind eyes that made Marisol feel warm inside, the same feeling she got whenever she talked to Scott. “How are you liking Beacon Hills so far?”</p>
<p>“Uhhm. It’s okay. I haven’t really been able to see much of it. We only really finished moving in on Sunday.” Fighting the urge to run away, Marisol tried to keep the conversation going “What do you all normally do for fun?”</p>
<p>“Oh just the usual, you know.” Lydia waved her hand dismissively, knowing there was no way that ‘we fight evil supernatural beings to keep beacon hills safe’ would pass as an appropriate answer.</p>
<p>“Uhm, she means like the mall, or movies…” Kira continued, trying to save the conversation from taking an awkward turn. “Or bowling! Do you like bowling?”</p>
<p>“I do.” Marisol nodded, swallowing a bite of her sandwich and smiling at Kira. She seemed to be intent on making Marisol feel included, and once again Marisol was filled with both a good feeling. “I’m really bad at bowling, but I always love to bowl.”</p>
<p>“How do you love bowling if you’re bad at it?” Malia interrupted, squinting at Marisol from the other side of the table, her head cocked to the side. “I never like something if I’m bad at it. I mean, why would I? Being good at something is what makes it fun.”</p>
<p>Scott gave Malia a stern stare, trying to subtly caution her to be nice and reel it in a bit. Not seeming to take the hint, Malia just looked at him, “What? I’m just saying.”</p>
<p>“Uh… I dunno.” Marisol said quietly. “It was just something my family used to do a lot when I was kid. I always had to use the children’s ball and most of my throws were gutterballs, but... my parents were always laughing and cheering me on, even if my score was like 20. It was one of my favorite things to do before they passed away.”</p>
<p>“Oh…” Malia fell quiet, now feeling guilty that she had pushed the new girl to talk about her dead parents. She looked over at Scott again who was giving her that look again, letting her know she had messed up again. The rest of the table sat in awkward silence, all suddenly focused on the lunch sitting in front of them. It was only broken when Scott decided to speak up.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry about your parents.” He gave Marisol a sympathetic look. “Did they pass away when you were little?”</p>
<p>“Kinda…” Marisol hesitated. Besides Aurora and her therapist, she’d never really had to open up about the death of her parents. Most of the time people felt too uncomfortable to ask her about it, and the ones that did were satisfied with her usual two worded answer of ‘car accident’. Now she was here, already lying about who she was, and now having to lie even further. Would they accept her if they knew the truth about her parents? If they knew how they had really died? If they knew what she’d done? “I was fourteen…they died in a car accident.”</p>
<p>“I’m really sorry.” Kira gave Marisol a sad look and thought back to earlier when she’d gone through Marisol’s instagram. Not only did she not have friends, she didn’t have her parents either. She turned to look at Stiles, trying to give him a look that said you see, she needs us, but found him instead squinting at Marisol, a questioning look on his face. He wasn’t convinced. Marisol’s answer had seemed too vague. No one liked to talk about their dead parents, he knew that better than anyone, but something about the way she looked away and avoided Scott’s gaze...her answer just seemed...fake.</p>
<p>“Its...okay.” Marisol let her hands fall to her lap and smiled at Kira. She didn’t want them to feel sorry for her, that wasn’t what the point of having lunch together was. “I mean… it’s not and it sucks...but...it’s fine. You don’t have to feel sorry for me or anything...”</p>
<p>“Well, I for one, do not  want this lunch to turn into a sadfest, when we are supposed to be getting to know our new friend and making her feel welcome.” Lydia interjected, giving everyone at the table a glare before turning to Marisol and smiling widely at her. “Why don’t you tell us about where you’re from?”</p>
<p>“Like, originally? Or where I lived last?” Marisol took a swig from her water bottle.</p>
<p>“Both.” Lydia smiled at her.</p>
<p>“Oh. Well, I’m originally from a small town in Delaware. But the last placed we lived was East LA. We were there for maybe three months max.”</p>
<p>“Wait,” Stiles interrupted. Up until that moment, he had been uncharacteristically quiet, observing the new girl and deciding what it really was he felt uneasy about. “Three months only? Why only three months?”</p>
<p>“Uh. I don’t know?” Marisol felt stumped. She hadn’t really thought of what to say in case questions about their constant moving ever came up and now she was wishing she had just lied and said they had only lived in one place before. But maybe it was better this way, the less lies she had to tell, the better she felt about infiltrating their pack. “My cousin is just never really still. Always looking for something else, something better.”</p>
<p>“Huh.” Stiles wasn’t buying this response either. Something seemed off. Yeah people move around a lot, heck, military families are constantly moving from place to place, but three months seemed unnaturally short for two cousins from Delaware. “Well, we hope that Beacon Hills meets your standards!”</p>
<p>There was an awkward silence after Stiles’s sarcastic and somewhat hostile remark, leaving Marisol to suddenly feel unwelcome sitting here with them at lunch. Stiles had seemed so much different when she had ran into him last night, and now it felt like he was upset at having her around. Did he know? Had he figured it out? Maybe she was wrong about him being the human and he could sense her? Trying not to panic, she decided to break the silence.</p>
<p>“Uhm. Thanks. I don’t really think it’s up to me though…”</p>
<p>“Hmm. Yeah,” Stiles continued, taking a big bit of his sandwich and continuing his questions with his mouth full. “So what exactly is your cousin looking for?”</p>
<p>“Looking for?” Marisol asked cautiously.</p>
<p>“Well, I’m assuming if no other place has met her standards, there must be something she’s specifically looking for in place of residence.”</p>
<p>“<i>Stiles</i>.” Scott gave Stiles a warning glance, to which Stiles responded with a shrug and another bite of his sandwich.</p>
<p>“Oh.” Marisol looked at Stiles, confusion written all over her face. <i>Why was he asking so many questions?</i> “I think she just wants some place that isn’t so...fast-paced. Some place like our hometown.”</p>
<p>“Oh! Well then, maybe you’ll be able to stay in Beacon Hills.” Scott interrupts the conversation before Stiles can respond, smiling at Marisol and looking to Kira for support.</p>
<p>“Yeah!” Kira chimes in. “When I first moved to Beacon Hills it was so different to New York. I thought I would die of boredom with how slow everything seemed.”</p>
<p>Marisol smiled at this, feeling comforted by both Scott’s and Kira’s attempts to cover up Stiles’s abrupt hostility. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t die. Otherwise I don’t think I would have made any friends.”</p>
<p>“What? A catch like you?” Lydia joined in. “That hardly seems possible.”</p>
<p>Marisol chuckled. “Ha! Thank you, but I’m well aware of the vibe I give off. I don’t have 500 pictures of my cat on my phone because I’m <i>popular</i>.”</p>
<p>Malia laughed at her joke. “Self-deprecating. I like you.”</p>
<p>“Thanks! I think?”</p>
<p>“No problem.” Malia took the top slice of bread off her burger and grabbed the patty, taking one big bite out it. “But really. You’ll be fine. I lived in the woods for eight years eating deer, and look at me now!”</p>
<p>Malia held the patty between her hands and shook in front of Marisol’s face. “Two hands!”</p>
<p>Lydia laughed loudly, giving Malia a stare to get her to stop talking. “She’s only <i>kidding</i> of course! Malia just wasn’t socially-trained. She’s still a work in progress.”</p>
<p>Malia only looked at Lydia and frowned, going back to her burger and smiling widely at Marisol. <i>Coyote</i>, Marisol thought, finally being able to pinpoint why she smelled different than Scott, different to Aurora.</p>
<p>“Uh. Thank you for the vote of confidence.” Just then the bell rang and the group got up to pack up and head to their next classes.</p>
<p>“Look,” Scott walked up to Marisol and put an arm on her shoulder. “I don’t know much about being the new kid but, you seem cool and we like you. Don’t worry too much about fitting in here...because really, we’re all a little different.”</p>
<p>“You have no idea.” Stiles mumbled, giving Marisol a tight-lipped smile and feeling guilty at how he had harassed her earlier.</p>
<p>“Thanks. I’m glad we got paired up as lab partners then.” Marisol smiled at Scott and Stiles before turning to walk away. “Thanks for lunch.”</p>
<p>

Marisol smiled and waved back. <i>Did this mean she was in?</i></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter Nine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aurora meets with Deaton where the truth behind her and Marisol's past begins to unravel.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aurora sat in her car for the first few minutes after pulling into the parking lot, anxiously trying to calm her nerves. She hoped that she’d made the right decision in not consulting with Marisol on her second meeting with Deaton. It wasn’t like she had to run every decision she made by Marisol, but she liked having open, honest communication with her. She sat in her car a little while longer, trying to gather her thoughts before walking in to speak with Deaton. Taking one final deep breath, she stepped out of her car. </p>
<p>“Hello?” Aurora called out as she walked up to the counter. She was suddenly met by slight push as she tried to lay her hand on the wooden frame. Incredible. Aurora stared in awe as she lifted her hand and tried to push through the force that was keeping her back.</p>
<p>“You seemed surprised.” Deaton spoke up as he rounded the corner and stepped into view, standing on the other side of the counter. </p>
<p>“Amazed, really.” Aurora let her hand down and smirked at him. “The entire building?” </p>
<p>“Mountain ash.” </p>
<p>“I’m sure that comes in handy.” </p>
<p>“It’s definitely had its use.” Deaton smiles, remembering the times he has had to protect himself and the others inside it. “Now, you didn’t come all the way here just to talk about this building, did you?” </p>
<p>Aurora shook her head quietly, the anxiety from earlier creeping back up again. </p>
<p>“Well then, come inside.” Deaton moved the front gate aside and allowed for Aurora to walk on through. “Now, what would you like to know?” </p>
<p>“I want to know more about Scott McCall.” Aurora said, very direct and to the point. </p>
<p>“And why would someone like you have so much interest in someone like Scott?”</p>
<p>“I need to know what kind of Alpha he is.” </p>
<p>“Why does it matter to you what kind of Alpha he is?” </p>
<p>Aurora hesitated before continuing. It was something she’d been thinking of ever since she'd first heard about Scott. He was young and strong, and seemingly grounded. If he was the person she wanted him to be, the person she needed him to be, then maybe the guilt would be less. Maybe leaving Marisol with him wouldn’t hurt so much. “I need to know whether he is good. Whether he cares for his pack...or whether he doesn’t.” </p>
<p>Deaton looked at her intently, scrutinizing her face and her words, searching for any answers she might accidentally give away. </p>
<p>“For the last two years Marisol and I have been travelling, searching for answers, but more than that, I want stability, I want reassurance. I love Marisol, but two people hardly make for a proper pack.” Aurora continued, sensing Deaton’s distrust. </p>
<p>Hearing this, Deaton softened. “You want to leave her with him?” </p>
<p>Aurora looked down, overcome by the guilt she hid from Marisol. “Yes. She deserves an alpha that will protect her--a pack that will always be around.” </p>
<p>“Why can she not have that with you?”</p>
<p>“I’m not made to be in a pack.” Aurora looked down sadly. “Not anymore.” </p>
<p>“You’ve been travelling for two years,” Deaton continued. “Surely you must have met other packs along the way?”</p>
<p>“Not many, no. We only sought out those on the list of trusted contacts which was short and even shorter was the list of people who wanted anything to do with us. Which in hindsight, makes sense, what with the rumor that I had killed my pack...it was hard to find packs who were understanding. I would always offer my side to the Alpha, they at least would know the truth. It was up to them if they wished to share that information with their pack.” after a pause she continued, “His name was Sean. The one who killed my family.” The time it took for her to tell all she knew of him and those in his pack was short. They were unable to gather much information they hadn’t already known or that was reliable. Most of the time the other wolves had no idea he even existed. Two years of searching and they had nothing to show for it. </p>
<p>Deaton looked at her, overcome by sympathy. If what she had told him was true, if she had only avenged her family, then how was it that the story had become so twisted? If there was no one left to tell the tale but her, how come she wasn’t regarded a hero? At the very least a martyr. He couldn’t condone what she had done, but even he knew that wars between packs could be gruesome and painful. </p>
<p>“Do you know of Deucalion?” Deaton looked Aurora in the eye, deciding he would share with her as much as he could without giving too much away. </p>
<p>“The Demon Wolf.” Aurora scoffed. “Nothing but a coward and a snake.” </p>
<p>“Maybe so, but there was no doubt he was powerful and dangerous. A man full of anger, with a lust for vengeance--he could have been the end of many of us.” </p>
<p>“But Scott defeated him…”</p>
<p>“He did.” Deaton nodded. “As you may already know, Scott is a true alpha.” </p>
<p>Aurora nodded. “He must be if he took out someone like Deucalion.”</p>
<p>Deaton chuckled. “‘Took out’...you see, one cannot become a true alpha by taking their power.” </p>
<p>Aurora looked at him, confusion written all over her face. If what she’d heard was true, a true alpha was one of the most power beings of the supernatural world. How could power like that not be taken? </p>
<p>“A true alpha becomes one by sheer force of will.”</p>
<p>Aurora nodded slowly, understanding the weight behind his words. </p>
<p>“One cannot be a true alpha if one has killed. As cliché as it might sound, one has to be pure of heart.” Deaton paused, waiting to see Aurora’s reaction. 
	</p>
<p>She understood now. Marisol had been right. She’d been right and Aurora had treated her like a fool. “How did he do it, if I may ask?” </p>
<p>“He fooled a darach.” </p>
<p>“Wait.” Aurora shook her head. “A Darach was involved?!”</p>
<p>Deaton chuckled lightly. “It’s a bit of a long story.” </p>
<p>“I’ve got time.” Aurora sat down on one of the stools, leaning on one elbow and resting her chin in the palm of her hand. </p>
<p>“You see with Deucalion and the Darach, there was only one ending that made sense--death. But death has never made sense to Scott. He managed to fool the Darach into giving Deucalion his eyesight back, giving him a second chance of life. He even tried to save the Darach, but she was ultimately taken by another.” Deaton paused as we watched Aurora take in all the information. “Even when death is the only answer, Scott finds another way.” </p>
<p>Aurora nodded. She stayed silent for a few moments, wondering where the conversation would go from there, and what more Deaton could possibly tell her. </p>
<p>“I believe it’s your turn now.” Deaton interrupted her thoughts. </p>
<p>Aurora sighed before she began her tale. </p>
<p>“Moira only ever asked me what I wanted once. After I took the bite, she didn’t need to ask because I had it all--family, stability, strength, love. I’d never had that before, and it wasn’t until I met Miranda that I was finally able to feel at home. She was Moira’s daughter and one summer during college, she took me home to meet her pack. I’d never felt so welcomed or so warm. I didn’t need to think about it twice when the bite was offered.” Aurora thought back on her initiation to the pack with fondness. She’d never had a real family before, always fending for herself, and now, she had a whole pack. </p>
<p>“Moira took a liking to me early on. She’d call me brave and strong--said I had loyalty that went beyond that of a beta. Sometimes it seemed like she cared for me more than her own child, but I knew better--she cared for all of us as if we were hers, and we were. She grew to trust me above others, letting me come with her to meetings and even be present during new initiations. It was during this time that I came to meet our emissaries. Moira had always kept them a secret from the other members of the pack, letting only a select few know their identity. I was lucky enough to be chosen, and lucky enough to get to know them, to love them.” At this point, Aurora’s face turns pale. She is close to telling him everything. Her story and Marisol’s. </p>
<p>“Is there a rule about emissaries being super cryptic in their answers and keeping such a calm demeanor when us foolish werewolves pour our hearts out?” Aurora chuckled, trying to ease the tension she could feel, mostly radiating off of her. “What is there like a special training you all go through?” </p>
<p>Deaton smiled and let out a sigh, “Something like that.” </p>
<p>Aurora let out a frustrated sigh, knowing well that was her cue to continue. There was no going around it, Deaton wanted information and she had to give it to him. As painful as it could be. Aurora tapped her nails against the metal table, trying to figure out the best way to delve into the next part of her story and wondering if she really had to give all of it away. Deaton had kept his response short and even then, he hadn’t told her much except that Scott was strong and pure. Was that really all she needed? She’d told him she only wanted to know if he was worthy, but now sitting here, unboxing her past and her suffering, she wondered if she should have asked for more. Sure Scott had defeated the infamous Demon Wolf, but how did knowing that actually help them? How would knowing that actually give Marisol the opportunity to be part of his pack. Perhaps she should have traded her information for a deal--she tells Deaton the truth, he secures a place for Marisol. </p>
<p>Almost as if on cue, Aurora’s phone vibrated, indicating an incoming message. <i>Marisol</i>. She opened it, excusing herself to Deaton. </p>
<p><br/>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Marisol: Lunch was a success! I think...They all seem nice and like they want me around? Well, except for the human...he doesn’t seem to trust me…</p>
</blockquote><br/><p>Aurora put away her phone before turning back to Deaton and bracing herself for her next move. “Do you ever think back on something and wonder how different things would have turned out if you knew then what you know now?” </p>
<p>“All the time.” Deaton frowned. “I think it’s in our nature to wish we could have changed things, done them differently.” </p>
<p>Aurora nodded. “Honestly, I don’t even know if it would have mattered. I still don’t know why it happened. How could I have known what was about to happen if there were no signs? How could any of us have known? I think that’s what bothers me the most...I don’t know if there was anything we could have done to prevent it. Anything that would have made a difference.” </p>
<p>“No signs of what?” Deaton asked cautiously, trying not to push Aurora into a corner. </p>
<p>Aurora stood up and started to pace, unsure of how to keep going. Her voice was starting to crack and she could feel her eyes get hot, tears threatening to fall out. “I don’t know if there was a plan in place, or if it was just a random ambush. Maybe it was both, maybe it was neither. And what I hate the most is that it doesn’t matter how many times I wish I could go back and fix it, go back and save everyone--it wouldn’t have made a difference.” </p>
<p>At this point Aurora was picking at the imaginary dirt under her nails, unable to keep still and unable to look Deaton in the eye. She sniffled loudly, trying to regain her composure before she continued. She sat down again, trying to hide the pained look in her eye as she tried to keep going. </p>
<p>“It was supposed to be a family barbeque. Just… a day where we could all get together, have some good food, a few drinks. We did it every year--it was a tradition. A few of us left on a beer run; Miranda, her girlfriend, and two other members, Ryan and Julian. We were gone all of 15 minutes and when we came back....it was hateful, and angry, and violent. And when I found Moira…” Aurora’s voice cracked, giving her away. “She was barely recognizable...I am still haunted by Miranda’s broken cries. No child should have to find their parent like that. No child should see their parents killed in that way.” </p>
<p>Suddenly, Aurora couldn’t stop talking. She told Deaton everything--every moment, every detail--from the frantic search for the few members that hadn’t been there, to the call to arms, the opportune moment that allowed them to get their revenge. Everything. Up to the hollow victory when Aurora was left standing alone, the destruction of her revenge costing her everything she had. She told him about the horror she felt when she found the state that Marisol and her parents were in. </p>
<p>“I offered to help, but she wouldn’t let me.” Aurora finally pauses, taking a deep breath and wipe the tears that now fell from her eyes, unashamedly. “Perhaps I should have insisted--I was the Alpha now...it was my duty to protect her.” </p>
<p>There was a heavy silence that hung in the air after Aurora had finished her tale. Neither one knew what to say and Deaton was left feeling sympathetic but still cautious. She had after all, sought vengeance and killed off an entire pack. Was it possible that it was a one time thing, or was this her primal instinct in the heat of a fight? Did the same anger and lust for revenge reside in Marisol? </p>
<p>As if guessing his thoughts, Aurora spoke first, “Marisol had nothing to do with it, Deaton. She didn’t even know her parents were emissaries, much less know werewolves existed. She was dragged into a world that she didn’t know, in the most cruel and punishing way possible--and then everything was stripped away from her. Please, she is all I have left and I only want to do right by her.” </p>
<p>Deaton sighed and looked at Aurora’s face. It seemed earnest and full of sorrow--she meant what she said and now he believed her. </p>
<p>“You came to me with one question today: Is Scott McCall a worthy alpha?” Deaton paused. “But I ask you now, is Marisol worthy to be in his pack?” </p>
<p>Aurora looked him in the eye now, a red glint shining in them. Her face was no longer sorrow struck, but now full of determination and certainty. “More than anyone I know.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter Ten</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aurora and Marisol catch each other up on the last few days and go out for ice cream, running into an unlikely person at the bookshop.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You are being uncharacteristically quiet.” Marisol observed as she looked over at Aurora who sat across from her at the dinner table, her head down as she stirred her soup around absentmindedly “You’ve hardly eaten…is everything okay?”</p>
<p>Aurora looked up, breaking out of her trance. She hadn’t realized how long it had been since they sat down, but by the look on Marisol’s face, it had been a while. “Huh? Oh. I’m sorry. I’m just...thinking.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I can see that....what about?”</p>
<p>“I met Deaton.” Aurora looked down again, trying to avoid the stare she knew she would get from Marisol for having gone without consulting her. To her surprise, Marisol remained relatively calm.</p>
<p>“When?”</p>
<p>“The other night, found out he's the local veterinarian when I took Olivia in for that cut.</p>
<p>“How did it go?”</p>
<p>“He knew about us, about what we are and that we’ve been traveling,” Aurora paused. “I met with him yesterday. I had to tell him everything.”</p>
<p>Marisol frowned at this. What did that mean? She didn’t mind that Aurora had told him, if she had it had been with good reason, but what did ‘everything’ entail?</p>
<p>“I didn’t tell him about Sean...at least not in regards to you.” Aurora paused. “I told him why I wasn't there when it happened and the steps that lead to me finishing off that piece of shit.” Aurora got up and took her dish to the sink, rinsing the food down the garbage disposal, and deciding to fix herself a cup of coffee instead. “I'm sorry...you were right about Scott.”</p>
<p>“I know.” Marisol agreed.</p>
<p>“I should have had the same faith and trust in your judgment that you afford me.”</p>
<p>“True.”</p>
<p>“I suppose I owe you a favor now.” Aurora gave a teasing smile.</p>
<p>“How many is that now?” Marisol asked, returning the smile.</p>
<p>“Ha, I think you could cash them all in for a pony.”</p>
<p>Marisol wrinkled her nose, “Who needs a pony when I have Emy?”</p>
<p>Hearing her name, Emy responded from her spot over on the couch, jumping down and making her way over to the kitchen. She rubbed herself on Marisol’s legs, looking up and purring loudly when Marisol scratched at her head. Standing up, Marisol took her dishes to the sink and reached for the sponge to get started on washing dishes when Aurora stopped her.</p>
<p>“It’s good. I’ll wash them tonight.” Aurora turned to get her car keys from the counter. “Besides, I want to hear about this lunch.”</p>
<p>“Where are we going?” Marisol asked as she followed Aurora to the front door, mimicking her actions and pulling her purse over her shoulder.</p>
<p>“I might not have had dinner, but I can sure do with some dessert.” Aurora winked at her, pulling the door open and heading toward the car. “Come on, you can start telling me about lunch on the way--I’m suddenly craving ice cream.”</p>
<p>Aurora and Marisol strolled downtown, ice cream cone in hand while they went over what both of them had learned from their respective meetings. Turned out Marisol was more than right about Scott and he was in fact, in Aurora’s opinion, the sweetest Alpha they could have met. She felt grateful that he had been so kind and willing to invite Marisol into his close circle of friends. Though from Marisol’s retelling of lunch, it didn’t seem like they were all so keen on having her join them.</p>
<p>“So, who exactly is this Mechee person?” Aurora asked, still unable to pronounce the name Marisol had told her, and wondering what kind of parent would curse their child like that.</p>
<p>“Meiczyslaw.” Marisol corrected. “But I don’t think I’m supposed to know that’s his name?”</p>
<p>“You’re not supposed to know what his name is even though he told you?” Aurora made a face. <em>Teenagers are so weird</em>.</p>
<p>“No!” Marisol laughed, slapping Aurora’s shoulder lightly. “Scott told me in secret I think. Everyone just calls him Stiles.”</p>
<p>“Stiles? Huh, that’s a cool nickname I guess.” Aurora laughed, flicking her tongue out to catch some of the melting ice cream that was dripping down her cone. “So, he doesn’t like you? Or are you just projecting like usual.”</p>
<p>“I’m not projecting, for sure.” Marisol looked down, once again feeling the ache in her chest that had lingered after lunch. “It’s like… he doesn’t want me around at all?”</p>
<p>“Well, his questions do sound like an interrogation. Maybe he’s just overprotective?”</p>
<p>“Maybe...I dunno. He didn’t seem like that the night before?”</p>
<p>“Wait, what?” Aurora stopped walking, her head cocked to one side as she waited for Marisol to explain. “What do you mean the night before?”</p>
<p>“Oh… uh… I kinda ran into him after our argument...like, literally.” Marisol blushed and looked away, trying not to linger too much on the rush of feelings she’d felt when he walked her home.</p>
<p>“Wha--why are you--Are you blushing?” Aurora stepped closer, inhaling deeply as she got closer to Marisol. “Oh my God, what is that? Why do you smell like that?”</p>
<p>“Oh my God. Stop!” Marisol walked away, blushing even harder as she noticed people staring at the two of them as they walked by. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…I smell the same as always.”</p>
<p>“Mmmm no. No you don’t.” Aurora followed, making a face and pretending to gag. “I know your anxiety smell by now, you always reek of it, but this is anxiety and something else.”</p>
<p>“Gee, thanks. I love being told I reek.”</p>
<p>“You know what I mean! Now stop walking away from me so that I can figure out why you smell like that!” Aurora trailed after her, making a scene of sniffing the air behind her, looking like a hound dog, much to Marisol’s amusement and embarrassment. “I got it!”</p>
<p>“No, you definitely don’t.”</p>
<p>“Hmm yes, I think I do… it’s embarrassment with a hint of…<em>longing</em>???” Aurora stared after Marisol continued to walk away, shoving the last of her ice cream into her mouth. “Oh my God, do you have a crush on him?!”</p>
<p>Marisol ran back, placing her hand over Aurora’s mouth. “OH. MY. GOD. Can you maybe not yell things like that? And NO I don’t. I told you. You definitely do <em>not</em> know what I smell like, and it is definitely <em>NOT</em> either of those things.”</p>
<p>“Okay, sure.” Aurora smirked. “Well maybe <em>you</em> say you don’t have a crush on him, but your B.O. definitely says something else.”</p>
<p>“Look,” Marisol stopped walking, turning to face Aurora. “You can’t have a crush on someone you don’t know. All it was, was me thinking he was a nice guy and as usual, me making a fool of myself. I am embarrassed that I was awkward and that I thought he would want to be my friend, when in reality he doesn’t want me anywhere near him. The longing you <em>smell</em>, is me wanting to have friends.”</p>
<p>Aurora suddenly felt sad. Her teasing from earlier suddenly seeming not as funny. She wasn’t convinced at Marisol’s explanation, but it did make her sad that Marisol felt so unable to make friends. How could anyone not like her? Aurora loved her and thought she was the greatest kid she’d ever met. How dare anyone make her feel like she wasn’t anything but the best!</p>
<p>“You know…” Aurora walked up to Marisol, putting an arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay for you to tell me what you feel?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know…” Marisol grabbed the hand that Aurora had draped over her shoulder. “But it is a lot more fun seeing you try to guess.”</p>
<p>The two laughed as they walked on, Aurora finishing the rest of her ice cream and trying her best to clean her sticky hands. It was nice to get some time to relax, and enjoy the evening out. She couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had really laughed and played around that way. Lately, everything always felt like the world was just about to explode--like something was hanging over their heads and would drop at a moments notice. She couldn’t explain what the feeling was or where it was coming from, but she did know she always felt a darkness around them, and for now, it was nice to feel some light.</p>
<p>“Hey, look!” Marisol pointed to a shop across the street, lit dimly by the streetlights that were now turning on one by one as the sun went down. It was a small bookstore. “You mind if we check it out?”</p>
<p>“Nah, we got time to kill. You finished all your homework right?” Aurora smirked at Marisol, following her toward the store. Marisol only looked back and laughed mockingly as Aurora’s attempts to parent her. They both knew she’d finished her homework at school.</p>
<p>An hour had passed and Aurora found herself engrossed in a book she had picked up just out of mere curiosity. This happened often when she and Marisol walked into a bookshop. It’d start as just browsing, but a few minutes later, she always found herself on the floor surrounded by a pile of books that she’d decided she was probably not going to buy, but would hold onto just in case. In the end of course, she would always buy at least half.</p>
<p>She was completely absorbed in the story when she was suddenly frightened by a <em>ping</em>! coming from her phone. Looking down, Aurora saw that it was a message from Marisol:</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>In the aisle in front of you...cutie with a booty checkin’ you out.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<p>Aurora looked up from her phone, looking around to see if she could find Marisol. Instead she found a young man in his 30s standing in the aisle right in front of her, his eyes peeking over the top of his book and looking straight at her. Having been caught staring, he looked away, giving Aurora the time to give him a once over and decide whether Marisol was right. Her thoughts were interrupted by another <em>ping</em>!</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Okay, maybe he doesn’t have a booty, but he’s cute tho...</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<p>Aurora rolled her eyes and shook her head. She often wondered why Marisol put in so much time into finding her a man instead of finding someone for herself. She wasn’t complaining too much, but having a 17 year old as a wing-man always made her feel silly, even if said 17 year-old had her type down pat.</p>
<p>She looked over at the man again, noticing that he had now replaced the book he had been reading and was searching (or seemingly searching) for another. He was cute. Light brown hair, soft blue eyes, a little stubble on his face, broad slouching shoulders, with a matching broad chest--Marisol sure knew what to look out for. And he <em>had</em> been eyeing her, so not only was he cute...he was <em>interested</em>. Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, she saw another figure slowly enter the aisle. <em>Marisol</em>.</p>
<p>Marisol walked quietly into the aisle the handsome stranger was standing in and pretended to be looking for a book. She turned to look at the man, looking him over and grinning widely at Aurora, giving her a thumbs up. Turning back around, she could feel Aurora’s angry glare burning holes into the back of her head. She let out a silent chuckle when suddenly the hair on the back of her neck stood, goosebumps forming on her arms. She turned her head slowly toward the stranger, looking at the back of his head, the feeling getting stronger. Sensing Marisol’s presence, the man turned around, and looked down at the small girl, taking in her brown face and brown eyes. He smiled at her.</p>
<p>“Can I help you?” He tried to ask as nicely as possible, thrown off by the bewildered look on Marisol’s face.</p>
<p>“Uh...yeah. Sorry.” Marisol was quick to react, realizing how strange he must feel to have a teenager staring wide eyed at him. “You’re just...uh. I need that book right there...you’re kinda...in the way.”</p>
<p>The man turned and Marisol grimaced, feeling stupid and awkward, but also wanting to move away as quickly as possible. From across the aisle, Aurora watched the scene, her hands perched on the edge of the arm rest, ready to propel herself if anything had happened. She was too far away to know what Marisol was freaking out about, but she knew it couldn’t be anything good. Of course a meeting a man so soon after moving would be too good to be true. She waited, watching their interactions unfold as the man reached over and grabbed a book on the highest shelf and handed it to Marisol, offering her a soft smile. Marisol smiled back and quickly walked down the aisle over to Aurora.</p>
<p>“What was that all about?” Aurora tried to whisper.</p>
<p>“What? Oh uh...nothing… I just…” She was interrupted by the man walking over to them, a smirk on his face as he approached.</p>
<p>“Sisters? I’m assuming?” He had three books in his hands and stood in front of them, looking them over, his eyes lingering on Aurora longer than Marisol now felt comfortable with.</p>
<p>Aurora hesitated, sensing what Marisol had sensed earlier, and now understanding her worry. <em>Werewolf</em>. He seemed a little old to be a part of Scott’s pack, and she knew there were more than one pack in Beacon Hills. And yet, something about his smile and the brightness of his eyes made Aurora want to answer him. “Cousins.”</p>
<p>Marisol looked over at her, shocked that she would divulge such personal information. Maybe not the most personal, but certainly not something you share with someone you just met and just found out was a freaking werewolf. But Maybe a handsome face was enough to sway Aurora. Had it really been that long since the guy in Tampa?</p>
<p>“Well, please excuse my mistake.” He smiled, looking only at Aurora. “It’s an easy one two make when you both have such similar beauty.”</p>
<p>Aurora rolled her eyes at him, knowing that while yes, they were beautiful, they didn’t look anything alike. But she couldn’t deny the attraction she felt toward the man, though at this point she didn’t know if she wanted to kiss him or punch him in the face. Maybe kiss him. Maybe take him home and kiss him. Maybe tie him up or throw him around a bit… that could take the place of punching. “I’m sure that line gets you pretty far with the ladies.”</p>
<p>“Well, I wouldn’t know. I’ve never found one as beautiful as you to try it out on.” He smirked again and Aurora thought about how much she’d love to wipe that smirk off his face...maybe even bite it off.</p>
<p>Marisol coughed, her eyes widening while her nostrils filled up with the scent Aurora was giving off. Did she have no shame? If she could smell it, then handsome werewolf dude certainly could too. She elbowed Aurora to get her off of the chair, hoping that maybe if they left, she’d be able to stop inhaling Aurora’s lustful scent. Aurora didn’t budge. “And how many have you used that one on?”</p>
<p>The stranger chuckled and grabbed his books with one hand, reaching out the other toward Aurora. “I’m Peter.”</p>
<p>“Hi Peter. I’m bored.” This time it was Aurora’s turn to smirk as Peter’s mouth fell open and Marisol snorted loudly. Aurora grabbed her books and stood up straightly, looking up at the tall, handsome stranger who now had a slightly less charming and slightly more devilish look in his eye. She took one of her books and slid it slowly between the nook of his arm and his hip, where his other three books lay. “Looks like you could use one more.”</p>
<p>With that, Aurora walked away, tilting her head toward the exit to signal Marisol to follow her. Marisol eyed Peter up and down, unsure of what to make of him and deciding that maybe Aurora knew better than to let her hormones get the best of her. She turned to follow Aurora, leaving Peter behind, a smirk lingering on his lips and a roguish look in his blue eyes. <em>That is quite a woman</em>.</p>
<p>Marisol walked out, trailing behind Aurora and laughing at the encounter between them and the handsome stranger. “So what was in the book you gave him?”</p>
<p>“My number.” Aurora shrugged and shot Marisol a mischievous look.</p>
<p>“You are...unbelievable!” Marisol gaped. “That guy was a total sleaze! And did you just <em>happen</em> to miss the part where he’s a freaking <em>werewolf</em>?!”</p>
<p>“Hey, hey, hey! Give me some credit!” Aurora started her rebuttal. “I sensed what he was right away, but I figured there’s no harm in knowing who the other wolves are in town. We can’t expect Scott and his pack to be the only ones around, and the more intel we have on the others, the better. Besides...I’m allowed to have a little fun, aren’t I?”</p>
<p>“You’re incorrigible.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter Eleven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marisol and Malia BOND</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>The next morning at school was a stressful one. It was Friday which meant that Marisol only had to get through one more day before she could relax into the weekend, and refuel for the following week. But as she walked from her car to the school’s entrance, she could feel her anxiety spreading through her body with each passing second.</p>
<p>Yesterday seemed to have gone well, and Kira had told her they’d “see her tomorrow”, but what did that entail? Did she mean they’d see her at lunch again because she was once again invited to sit with them? Or did she mean in general...like, they’d see her around? She hadn’t gotten any of their numbers so there was really no way of knowing what today was going to look like in terms of hanging out with friends. If she could even call them that. It had been so long since she had made friends that she didn’t even know what was proper friend-making protocol. Should she look for them and ask what the plan was? Or would that be seen as creepy and obsessive? Maybe she would just wait to see what they said. She had first period with Scott and Stiles anyway.</p>
<p>Her thoughts drifted to Stiles and her conversation with Aurora the previous night. Aurora had been right when she sensed longing in Marisol, and as much as she wanted to pretend it came strictly from wanting to be accepted by Scott and his friends, she had to admit that a big part of her wanted to be accepted by <em>him</em>. Him meaning Stiles. There was something about the way he had spoken with her that night at the forest that made her want to be close to him, and it wasn’t just that he was handsome. He had felt sincere, and caring. In a similar way to how Scott and Kira had felt, but different. It was a stronger, deeper, more honest caring. Something Marisol knew very little about. And something she wanted to know more of.</p>
<p>She walked silently down the halls, trying not to look up at anyone and hoping to avoid detection as she made her way to Biology. She sat through class hoping that she’d get a chance to talk to Scott and maybe even Stiles, maybe even figure out whether she was invited back to lunch with them. But it’d been a bust when the teacher put on a documentary they had to take notes on, and all she got from Scott was a smile and a wave, followed by a “we’ll see you later” as the two of them rushed out the door.</p>
<p>Her questions still unanswered, Marisol went on to her next class where she was surprised to see Malia, the werecoyote of Scott’s pack. Had she been there before? Marisol hadn’t noticed her or sensed her the two previous days, so maybe she hadn’t. She walked in slowly, wondering where she should sit since there was no assigned seating and Malia had an open seat right next to her. It was then that Malia looked up and over to her.</p>
<p>“Hey you!” She smiled wildly, waving Marisol over.</p>
<p>Marisol took a seat in the desk next to Malia, relieved that the decision had been made for her. “Hey.”</p>
<p>“Whoa. Are you okay?” Malia leaned close into Marisol and scrunched up her nose. “You reek.”</p>
<p>“OH! Uhm…” Taken off guard, Marisol didn’t know how to answer. She was sure Malia meant her anxiety, but she couldn’t say that without blowing her cover and letting on that she was a wolf. “That’s weird since I showered this morning…”</p>
<p>Malia squinted at her, then shrugged, shaking it off without realizing how it might be offensive to tell someone you had just met that they smelled. Marisol decided to let it go. Malia had seemed nice enough yesterday, albeit a little rough around the edges. Maybe this was her time to find a definite in. If a rough and tough girl like Malia could like her, then she wouldn’t even have to worry about Stiles.</p>
<p>“Hey, have you been in this class the whole time?” Marisol asked as she got her notebooks out and started writing down the questions the teacher had written on the board. “I just didn’t see you the last two days…”</p>
<p>“Oh. Yeah, I didn’t come in yesterday.” Malia answered, offhandedly, trying to focus on what was written on the whiteboard. “Sometimes I just don’t feel up for it, you know?”</p>
<p>“Uh...yeah, totally.”</p>
<p>“Do you? Because you don’t really strike me as someone who does.”</p>
<p>“I mean… no, but I can try to?”</p>
<p>Malia chuckled and went back to her work, squinting hard at the words she had written down, as if looking at them hard enough would give her the answers. It was almost a year and she still couldn’t focus when she needed to, and despite all her studying, nothing ever seemed to stick in her head. At this point in the year, she’d sit in class hoping she wouldn’t get called on and maybe somehow, she’d pass her tests. Lydia gave her most of her notes, but half the time they were crazy premonitions, and the other half, Malia just couldn’t understand. Math was always the worst, but now here in Econ, things were starting to get tricky too. Why did they need to make graphs in Econ? Couldn’t they just go back to when they had to write one-sentence answer for their morning pop quiz? She looked over at the other students, seeing most of them writing away, their heads down and their eyes glued to their papers. Turning to her left, she noticed Marisol wasn’t writing anything either. Except, unlike Malia, she wasn’t writing because she was done. Of course the new girl would be a genius--add her to the list of friends who thought she was stupid and incapable. It wasn’t her fault her formative years had been spent living in the woods hunting for something to eat. She shook her head and was about to turn back to her quiz when she saw Marisol slowly turn her paper over and slide it toward the edge of her desk. She smiled inwardly and quickly (and discreetly) tried to write down what the new girl had on her own paper, wondering whether Marisol was doing this to help or because she thought Malia was dumb. Maybe it was both. Either way, Malia was grateful to be done with her quiz before the teacher came out to lecture.</p>
<p>Almost as if on cue, Coach Finnstock walked out, juggling a stress ball from one hand to the other, a wild, albeit distracted, look in his eyes. It hadn’t taken Marisol too long to realize that Coach Finnstock was an unconventional teacher, to say the least--one who took joy in throwing his stress ball at students who answered incorrectly or who fell asleep in his class. He hadn’t actually ever hit a student. Mostly, he missed them and ended up having to go after his ball that was now on the floor across the room; Marisol hadn’t decided whether he did that intentionally or not, but for the most part, the students seemed used to it and hardly ever flinched. Today seemed like it was going to be no different. Stress ball in hand, Coach looked around the room scanning for his next victim.</p>
<p>“New girl!” Coach pointed at Marisol, who felt her heart stop at the way he screamed her current title. “You know, I just <em>love</em> the new kids. The new meat…. The <em>fresh</em> meat. I see this lost, distraught little look in their eyes and it just-it brings me joy, really. It takes me back to when I was a little high school twerp like all of you--always picking on the <em>new kid</em>. But things are different now! I’m not some funny-looking 16 year-old looking to torture the new kid--no. Now, I’m the <em>teacher</em>.”</p>
<p>He nodded his head violently, and let out what could only pass as a maniacal cackle. All the students only looked at him, a blank expression on their faces, not phased by his outburst. Marisol held her breath wondering where exactly he was going with all this, when Coach looked back at her, a confused look on his face. “New girl, what are you still doing sitting down? Get your ass over to the whiteboard! Hurry up, you got question number 7 to answer.”</p>
<p>Marisol stood quietly, shooting Malia a panicked look to which she responded with a thumbs up. Coach called on another student, shoving him toward the board when he took a little too long to get up. He turned his back to the whiteboard, walking through the aisles, looking over the shoulders of students at their quizzes and shaking his head. “Alright, the rest of you switch papers with someone...time to see which of you actually pay attention instead of wasting my time.”</p>
<p>By the time Coach had turned back to the whiteboard, Marisol had finished drawing her graph and labeling it and was walking back toward her seat, sitting as quietly as she had stood up. She turned to Malia and smiled.</p>
<p>“New girl what’s your name?”</p>
<p>“Uh...Marisol.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, Marisol you’re no fun.” Coach squinted at her, before getting his aiming his stress ball at the other student still struggling to explain the effects of inflation. “Sammy on the other hand...”</p>
<p>Malia chortled when Sammy at the board let out a surprised squeak. She turned to Marisol, watching her as she grimaced at Coach’s comments. “Hey, you’re pretty smart then?”</p>
<p>“Oh… uh. Not really?” Marisol took in Malia’s “bullshit” expression and let out a quiet laugh. “I really just spend all my time studying...I don’t have any friends, remember?”</p>
<p>“Ugh, so do I, but nothing ever seems to stick!” Malia groaned in frustration. “I mean, you try living in the woods then having to come back and learn everything a 17 year old should know. It’s crazy.”</p>
<p>Marisol took note of how easily Malia talked about being a coyote and wondered if this was why the other students sometimes looked at her funny. She didn’t know all the social norms, so how could she know what to say but the truth? It seemed like suddenly Malia remembered how it wasn’t socially acceptable to talk about living in the woods, and how Marisol wasn’t like them so she’d probably think it was strange that Malia would say something like that, “I was homeschooled. My dad lives...near a forest. You know…”</p>
<p>“Yeah. For sure.” Marisol smiled at her, noticing how Malia’s face fell at having to explain her struggles to someone she had just met who was probably judging her. “It can be hard, trying to adapt, when your life was something completely different before.”</p>
<p>Malia looked at her, surprised that Marisol seemed to understand. “Yeah, yeah it can.”</p>
<p>“You know, if you want. We can study together?”</p>
<p>“Mmm I dunno. I study all the time with Lydia and Stiles, but I feel like people just get frustrated when I can’t pick up on things. And half the time I don’t even really get what they’re saying to me.”</p>
<p>“Well, the offer is there if you ever choose to. I think others can’t really get it sometimes...like they kinda expect you to be where they are, even though everyone learns things differently and at different speeds, you know?” Marisol tried to choose her words carefully, so as not to give anything away, but also to not offend Malia. It was always hard for her to adapt to a new home, and she remembered how difficult it had been to adapt to a new life, she couldn’t imagine having to do that two times, much less at the ages of 8 and 16.</p>
<p>Malia was taken aback by Marisol’s kindness. Even when she and Stiles had studied together, he always seemed to get slightly frustrated despite genuinely trying to help her. And Lydia had resorted to just lending her notes and never really taking the time to explain it. And it certainly didn’t help that just a few weeks ago, they were fighting against supernatural steampunk doctors, and only a few months before that they were all trying to survive being taken out by professional and amateur assassins. “Thanks.”</p>
<p>The rest of the class was spent working on filling out a packet Coach had handed out, announcing that there may or may not be a “pop quiz” on the new material. Coach retired to his desk, looking through his phone with the occasional glance up to survey his classroom. Marisol took the time to scoot her desk closer to Malia, who smiled when Marisol said she’d thought they could work together. Malia was pleasantly surprised to find that Marisol wasn’t just writing the answers for them, but was instead explaining the material in a much simpler way than the text book did, but not quite as dumbed down as her friends did. It was refreshing. When they’d finished and the bell rang, Malia turned to Marisol and answered the one question she’d been obsessing over since the morning: “See you at lunch!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>____________________________________________________________________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was after school and Marisol found herself in the library once again. She’d felt a little lame telling the group that she was going to study after school on a Friday, but in reality, she just wanted to get ahead on her homework so she could have the weekend to relax and maybe explore the town. Between unpacking and trying to get to know Scott, Marisol hadn’t really had the time to get to know their new home. So instead of heading home and getting ready to go out for the weekend, she was in the library, books open once again and head buried in homework. She hadn’t been expecting Malia to join her, however, and was pleased when the two made their way to an open table, talking about their classes as if they were officially friends.</p>
<p>After only a few minutes, Marisol realized that Malia’s biggest problem was her inability to focus. Every few seconds, her gaze would drift away, distracted by the sounds of other students, or by whatever was going on outside. Being familiar with distractions, Marisol suggested what always worked for her and handed Malia her headphones, telling her they worked best when the music played loud.</p>
<p>“But, won’t I still be able to pick up other sounds?”</p>
<p>“Uh…you shouldn’t hear anything with the music that loud.” Marisol tried to remember she couldn’t just come out and tell her that blasting music in her ears dulled her werewolf senses.</p>
<p>“Right...But, then I won’t be able to hear you if you want to talk to me.”</p>
<p>Marisol smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at Malia’s unknowingly endearing remark. “How about this? When I want to tell you something, I’ll just tap you on the arm?”</p>
<p>“Okay, yeah.” Malia nodded, putting on the headphones. “That works.”</p>
<p>An hour had passed and Marisol was pleased to see that Malia was able to concentrate on the work in front of her. Whether or not she was soaking up what she was reading was another thing, but Marisol figured getting her to focus was the first step. She looked up and took in the girl sitting across from her. Despite her blunt manners, Malia was soft. Not just on the outside, but Marisol could sense it when she watched her nose wrinkle when she came across something she didn’t understand, or when she ran her yellow highlighter over various sentences and smiled triumphantly when she flipped to the next page. There was something in her dark brown eyes, and her bright smile that made Marisol feel comfortable around her, even giddy that she had made a friend in her. She couldn’t help the fluttering in her stomach as she watched the girl scribbling away in her notebook, and she wondered how everyone of Scott’s friends seemed to be absolutely beautiful, Malia definitely no exception.</p>
<p>Noticing the time, Marisol slowly tapped Malia’s arm with her pencil, smiling at her when she looked up from her book and her notes. Malia took the headphones off and beamed at Marisol, “This really helped! I can’t believe no one ever thought to try this before!”</p>
<p>“I’m glad.” Marisol smiled widely, feeling strangely proud that she’d been able to help her when the others couldn’t. “I know I tend to get distracted sometimes too. Sometimes it feels more like sensory overload, so loud music always helps to tune out everything else.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Thanks!” Malia looked at her, wondering how someone she barely knew at all could make her feel so understood. “You know, not even Stiles could find a way to really help me focus, and we dated for like almost a year.”</p>
<p>“Oh! You did?” Marisol found that a bit hard to believe. While Malia had been so friendly and accepting, Stiles seemed guarded and unwilling to give her a shot. Granted, he was probably right to be suspicious, but if she forgot for a few minutes that she was actually a werewolf trying to infiltrate an already established pack, he definitely wasn’t very friendly.</p>
<p>“Yeah, but it’s not...like weird or anything. At least not anymore, but there was a time where I hated his guts.” Malia stopped. “It’s a long story.”</p>
<p>“That’s okay. He just seems...so different to you.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, he is.” Malia sensed Marisol’s discomfort at the topic of Stiles, and she remembered how he’d acted yesterday during their lunch. Even by her standards, he was being harsh. The new girl was nice. “But don’t let him get to you. He’s just…overprotective. Of his friends.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I get that...kind of.” Marisol thought about Aurora and how overprotective she was of her. Even Marisol felt the same about Aurora, always wary of the men she met and when she went off investigating on her own.</p>
<p>“Look, don’t even worry about him, he’ll come around. Plus, you’ve got me, Scott, Kira, and Lydia on your side.” Malia smiled and reached over, putting her hand over Marisol’s, making Marisol blush at the sudden gesture. Malia pretended not to notice, instead opting to squeeze Marisol’s hand a little tighter and offer her a genuine smile. “Now come on. I think I’ve done about as much as I can handle for a Friday night, and you look like you’ve been done for the last twenty minutes!”</p>
<p>She stood up and started packing her things, handing the headphones and cell phone back to Marisol. “Thanks again.”</p>
<p>“Yeah no problem. I’m happy to help anytime.” Marisol smiled again, trying not to let her thoughts linger on Malia’s fingertips brushing her hand as she handed the phone back to her.</p>
<p>“Ugh, maybe you can help with some food. I’m starving.” Malia exaggerated the gesture of clutching her stomach, pretending to almost keel over. “Let’s go get something to eat, yeah?”</p>
<p>“Yes! I can--I can help with that.” Marisol tried to not sound overly enthusiastic, but couldn’t help but feel excited at spending more time with her new friend. Maybe life in Beacon Hills was going to be easier than she’d thought.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter Twelve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marisol meets another pack member and trouble brews on the horizon.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Saturday afternoon found Marisol sitting alone on a cold metal bench, waiting patiently on her phone while her car had an oil change. She remembered how much she had begged Aurora to let her get a car, arguing how important it was that she not have to rely on her for everything. It wasn’t until they had actually moved to California that Aurora had agreed, thinking this state was going to be their at last--at least until Marisol came of age. They’d picked one out while living in Los Angeles, and when they’d made the move over to Beacon Hills, they’d drove separately, giving each the time and space to think about their new home. So that left Marisol in the waiting room of the only available shop in Beacon Hills.</p><p>She scrolled through her phone, searching for the perfect meme to send Aurora, when someone walked into the shop and rang the bell asking for assistance. Marisol looked up and saw that it was a young black boy maybe a few years younger than her. He smiled at her and sent her a quiet “hey” before turning back to the counter and waiting for someone to help him. The main mechanic came in from the back shop, talking to the boy about how much repair was needed for his car, making some offhand comment about how that was a lot of damage for a teenager’s first car.</p><p>“Three days? Damn.” Marisol tried not to eavesdrop too much, but she turned in time to see the young boy shake his head and pull out his phone. “Okay, thank you.”</p><p>He sat next to Marisol on the bench and dialed a number, bouncing his leg impatiently while waiting for whoever he was calling to pick up. “Hey...yeah, I’m at the shop...He says...I’m going to have to leave it for three days, you think you can come get me?...awesome! Yeah, I’ll wait inside. Text me when you get here, yeah?”</p><p>Marisol sat quietly, looking around at the photos and certificates hung up around the lobby, trying to distract herself from how slow time was passing and trying not to feel awkward sitting next to the young stranger. Suddenly noticing the boy trying to discreetly stare at her, her body tensed up, worrying that maybe she had something on her face.</p><p>“Hey...sorry, I don’t mean be creepy, but… you go to Beacon Hills High, right?” The boy was now facing Marisol and smiling at her as if he knew something she didn’t.</p><p>“Uh...yeah. I just started.” Marisol responded, relaxing at his friendly demeanor.</p><p>“Right! Yeah, you’re the new girl, right?”</p><p>“Uh...yeah.” Marisol frowned. She hadn’t recognized the boy, but maybe she’d just missed him in the flurry of faces during her first few days. “Sorry, are you in one of my classes?”</p><p>“Doubtful.” He chuckled. “I’m a sophomore, but I know Scott. He kinda pointed you out to me and my friend Liam, said to watch out for you even if we weren’t in the same grade. Something about how you were nice and he didn’t want anyone messing with you.”</p><p>“Oh...that’s...thoughtful?” Marisol smiled, wondering if Scott was already feeling overprotective of her--was it because he liked her, or was it just his Alpha nature to care after others. “I’m sorry I don’t know you. He didn’t really mention anyone outside of the few that I met.”</p><p>“Oh no, yeah. No worries.” The boy smiled. “I mean, we don’t really run in the same circles, but...we kinda do? I mean, they kinda saved my life a few weeks ago, but mostly I hang with my own friends. Really we only team up when crazy things are happening. NOT that crazy things happen a lot, it’s just...they’ve been happening a lot...recently...to me.”</p><p>“Nothing too bad I hope?” Marisol asked, concerned.</p><p>The boy let out a chuckle, recalling the events that had occured not too long and remembering how Scott had mentioned she wasn't supernatural and didn’t know about that world. He looked at her and saw the concern written on her face and felt a strange sense of comfort that someone he had just met felt worried about him. Sure, she didn’t know that he had been trapped in a supernatural bond with an ancient monster wolf and would have ceased to exist had it not been for Scott and his friends, but just the fact that someone would care about his well being so quickly after having met him, it was...reassuring.</p><p>“I’m Mason, by the way.” He stuck his hand out, ignoring her questions and choosing instead to change the topic. “Welcome to Beacon Hills.”</p><p>“Thanks.” Marisol shook his hand and smiled, <i>another human</i>. He seemed nice in comparison to the pack’s other human, and she wondered how two fifteen year olds got involved with Scott and his pack. If Mason wasn’t supernatural, how did he become acquainted with Scott? Hoping that maybe he’d be nice enough to give her a vague answer, she decided to just ask. “So, how do you know Scott?”</p><p>“Oh...uhhh,” Mason hesitated, not knowing the best way to explain to a completely innocent stranger how Scott bit his best friend Liam, turning him into a wolf and thus indoctrinating him into his pack. “Well, he kinda took my friend Liam under his wing...sorta acted as his mentor...kinda.”</p><p>“Oh...kay.” Marisol smiled inwardly, finding the way Mason talked around the truth amusing. She appreciated the way Mason circumvented the truth, protecting his friends’ secrets, and in a way, protecting her. Still, she was able to see through his explanation and now understood their connection to the pack--Scott had bitten Liam and made him his beta, meaning there was at least one other wolf in his misfit pack. “Well, I for one, am glad that Scott was cool with being my lab partner on my first day. I was terrified at the thought of having to make friends.”</p><p>“Yeah, I bet. It must be hard though, having to start over, leaving old friends behind?”</p><p>“Uhm...I guess.” Marisol looked down, suddenly embarrassed at the fact that she hadn’t really made friends in the last two years that she’d been travelling--the packs that they met and stayed with hadn’t really counted, since most were opposed at having them around, and the ones that weren’t were often times a lot older than she was. “Honestly, I’ve never really had friends? At least, not since we left Delaware.”</p><p>“Oh!” Mason looked shocked. “I’m sorry to hear that.”</p><p>“It’s okay...it’s just, we moved around so much there was hardly any time to really settle in, make some real friends. Most of the time I would be starting the school half way through the  year, and then we would be gone before the year even ended.”</p><p>“Wow, so are you like super behind in classes? I can’t imagine having to keep up.”</p><p>“I manage.” Marisol smiled, feeling proud once again that she still remained on top of her studies, and with a flawless GPA despite the constant changes in her life. “Not having any friends makes it really easy to focus on school.”</p><p>Mason laughed politely, not sure if she was trying to joke around or not, but feeling sad for her anyway. This must be why Scott had asked them to look out for her. “So, why did you move around so much? Why not just stay in one place?”</p><p>“Uhm... it was just...easier in a way.” Marisol paused, trying to come up with a way to explain why they were constantly on the move, searching for a new home--a more permanent, less damaged one. “After my parents passed away and I was left in the care of my cousin...it was just too hard to stay in our hometown. Somehow moving from place to place felt like we were trying to move on--move past it.”</p><p>“Oh...I’m really sorry to hear that.”</p><p>“It’s okay...I’m sorry for being so open. I don’t normally go around blabbing about my personal life to strangers...” Marisol frowned, wondering why she found it easy to talk to the young boy. Maybe it was because he was young that she felt she didn’t have to live up to any expectations? Or maybe it was because she felt the same kindness from Mason as she did with the others--that kindness that made her feel like she was already a part of their group, already their friend.</p><p>“No, no! It’s totally okay...I’m glad that you feel comfortable enough.” Mason smiled at her again, trying to look convincing and friendly. “I mean, most people don’t really tell me anything...then I have to kinda find out in a relatively life-threatening situation and things get really wild, and I’m kinda stuck in the middle trying to figure it all out...so this, this is a nice change of pace.”</p><p>“You make it sound like you are constantly on the brink of death.” Marisol laughed, trying to play off her concern and suddenly wondering if she and Aurora really knew what they were getting into.</p><p>“Oh no! I meant that as a joke...obviously!” Mason cursed himself for slipping up once again. “So...you said you were from Delaware? Is that where you lived before California?”</p><p>“Nah. That’s where we are from originally. But before California we lived in Texas for a while. I think we were there maybe...four months? And before that it was Washington, Wyoming, Florida, New Jersey...we even lived in Canada for a while!”</p><p>“Wow...that is… a lot of places.” Mason laughed, surprised at how much she had travelled in just two short years.</p><p>“Yeah...it is. But, we never really stayed in one place too long. I mean, in Jersey we were only there for like a month, though admittedly, it was my idea to move there in the first place, so we should have known that wasn’t going to last.” Marisol laughed remembering how they’d moved there on a whim, and how disappointed she’d felt after two weeks of travelling through the Pine Barrens. “Last place we lived was Los Angeles.”</p><p>“Los Angeles! That’s cool. How was that? I’ve always wondered about maybe one day going out there to live.”</p><p>“It was...okay? We were really only there three months, and the people we met weren’t exactly inviting...plus a big city can get so stressful. But culturally, it was pretty cool! It was actually kinda nice to get in touch with some of my roots while there--you don’t really get to see a lot of latino culture in Delaware.” Marisol went on to tell him about the interesting places that they had visited while living throughout the country--what people they had met, and how most of the time they were moving in with strangers,  hoping that they’d be accepted into their homes. Of course, she didn’t explain how most of these were werewolf packs themselves, connected to their families in some form or other. Almost all of them had known her parents and had greatly respected them, however, that didn’t always guarantee them an in with the pack. So many were doubtful and always believed the story that had been rumoured throughout the news and within the supernatural. They’d had to work hard to be accepted, and more often than not, Aurora had to come clean about what she had done and what had really happened--she always left out Marisol’s side of the story though, knowing it was still too soon and not her place to tell it.</p><p>“Damn, so you’ve been almost everywhere.” Mason sat excited at hearing about the different lives Marisol had experienced and the various things she had seen.</p><p>“Not really,” Marisol laughed. “But we have been around.”</p><p>“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to travel, but I honestly don’t think that my parents would ever let me go anywhere alone, or even with my cousin. Especially not at my age.”</p><p>“Well, you’ve got a lot of time. And even though I have been to a lot of places, there’s still a lot I haven’t seen so...we’ve got a lot ahead of us.” She smiled at him, realizing that this was the most comfortable she had felt since arriving and the most she had talked as well. She wondered if this was what it was like to have a little brother--someone who would listen to you tell dumb stories and always be in some kind of awe at the things you did. It was nice.</p><p>“So, what’s like...the coolest person you’ve met?”</p><p>“Hmmmm. I don’t know? I met a lot of cool people…” Marisol thought back to when they were in Florida, and they had met an old werewolf, part of an ancient family, and one of the original members of her pack, and the last surviving one. But, she thought it probably wouldn’t go well if she told him that was the coolest person she’d met, even if she was. Then she remembered their time in Los Angeles. Living in East LA had been troublesome, even though it had been fun. There they’d met one of the largest packs throughout the states, and while they were able to win over the alpha, they had been met with resistance from many other members of the pack--especially one particular shaved-headed beta, who despite being lower in the ranks, voiced his constant disapproval at their being around. What she found ironic was that his very own cousin had become one of their biggest advocates. He was younger than Marisol, but she’d never met such a brilliant and fast-learning wolf as him--he made her feel like a fool when she’d remember how long it took her to gain control of her powers. “I did meet a seventeen year-old barber once.”</p><p>“A barber?” Mason looked skeptical. Of all the people she had met, <i>that</i> was the coolest she could come up with?</p><p>“A seventeen year-old barber.” She emphasized, laughing. “He was just very skilled is all. I don’t know too many barbers, but that kid had pure talent. Plus he was basically running the shop he worked at… that’s pretty impressive if you ask me.”</p><p>“I dunno… I feel like you definitely know way cooler people than that.” Mason shook his head.</p><p>“Maybe, but he’s the one who came to mind.”</p><p>Just then, Mason’s phone went off, the loud ring breaking the conversation. Mason answered it quickly, cutting the person off with at “I’ll be right there.”</p><p>“Hey, sorry. My ride is here.”</p><p>“Oh! No problem, my car should be done soon anyway.”</p><p>“Thanks for all the stories.” Mason smiled at her, excited at how much he’d learned and at having something to share with the pack should they ask what he thought about her.</p><p>“Thanks for listening to them.”</p><p>“I’ll see you around school.”</p><p>With that, Mason walked out the door, giving her one last look and a wave before getting into the car that waited outside for him. Marisol stood, watching him leave and feeling happy at having met another member of the pack. </p><p>____________________________________________________________________________</p><p>Canelo sat with his head bent down over his phone, scrolling through the day’s headlines and hoping that his cousin Tomas wasn’t ruining what was left of his hair. It was the second time that week that he sat hunched in a barber’s chair, and he knew he’d never hear the end of it if Carmen somehow found out he’d gone over to Teddy’s to get a cut.</p><p>“Man, I dunno how you let that ol’ gringo do you like this.” Tomas laughed from behind him, the buzz of the razor too close to Canelo’s ears for him to care. “You know Carmen isn’t going to let you live this down.”</p><p>“Yo man,” Canelo snapped his head up, almost causing Tomas to make an undesirable cut. “ The only way Carmen is gonna give me shit about this, is if you tell her. So keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you.”</p><p>“I’m just saying, man.” Tomas ran a comb through the top of Canelo’s head, styling the longer hair in a way that gave him more volume and covered up the fact that Old Teddy had buzzed off more than just his sides. “Even if you had gone with Mr. Williams down the block, she’d still be pissed. But at least you wouldn’t look like some kind of diseased rat.”</p><p>Canelo turned to swat him away, losing his patience with his younger (albeit more experienced) cousin. He knew that one of Carmen’s rules was to always use the family business: <i>The family’s money, is for the family</i>. But he couldn’t help that earlier that week, everyone was booked and making no exceptions for him. He was tired of looking shaggy, and Old Teddy’s across town seemed like a safe enough bet. All he’d wanted was a clean cut, but somehow he’d come out looking ready to join the military--a buzz cut all up to the top, with just a messy mop of hair falling forward, courtesy of Canelo stopping Teddy in time and running out of the barber without looking back. He’d been lucky that Carmen was out of town for the week, and that Tomas was more than willing to help. He still looked like a damn fool, but at least this way, Carmen wouldn’t know where he’d gone.</p><p>“Hey, thanks, dude.”</p><p>“Don’t mention it.” Tomas sighed, turning to grab a broom and start sweeping what little hair he had trimmed off the top of Canelo’s head.</p><p>It hadn’t been long that Tomas started working at the barber, and even then, he had started younger than most, though that was due mainly to him being more adapted than the rest of his family. Somehow at 17, he had already gained all the control necessary for him to be able to handle the family business--both inside and out of the shop. His mom had been proud at how quickly he’d learned control and how well he had adapted to the family lifestyle--after all, it wasn’t easy having a family of werewolves, and even less easy was rising to the top ranks when your pack was one of the largest in the country. How Carmen had allowed him to move up so quickly was beyond him, but he was certainly grateful.</p><p>Canelo on the other hand, had taken too long to learn control, and Carmen didn’t believe he had what it took to be within the inner circle--something he resented after all his years of service. But it was that kind of thinking that made him unreliable to Carmen. <i>You see your role as a service, not as a duty</i>. But even then, he continued to follow orders and show up to family meetings when he needed to--the latest of which had given him the task of following the daily news, looking out for anything that might seem out of the norm.</p><p>He scoffed as he continued to scroll through his phone, not bothering to get up from the chair to help Tomas clean up. It was then that an article caught his eyes; He’d almost missed it, he was scrolling so fast.</p><p>“Holy shit.” He whispered.</p><p>“What?” Tomas inquired, suddenly interested in his cousin’s phone and trying to read the expression on Canelo’s face.</p><p>“We need to call Carmen.” Canelo turned his phone to face Tomas, revealing a chilling headline: </p><p>
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    <b>	Prestigious Armendariz Family Found Killed In Home </b>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter Thirteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A little bit of exposition, brought to you by Scott McCall</p>
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    <p>The weekend had come and gone and it was already midday Monday. Scott found himself busy taking inventory at the clinic and thinking about all that had happened in the last week with the new addition to his group of friends. The unexpected arrival of Marisol had turned out to bring a sense of hope to him and the rest of the pack, with the exception of Stiles, who seemed adamant about his thinly-veiled hostility toward her. It had been a long time since someone new to town had turned out to be nothing more than a normal person, and Marisol happened to be sweet and caring on top of that. There was something endearing and comforting about the way she was so quick to care about them, so quick to accept them, without knowing the truth, though he worried about the potential danger they could put her in. Scott wanted to tell Marisol the truth about what they were, what they did, everything they have been through--help her understand why Stiles had been acting the way he has, and to also show Stiles that he has been getting worked up over nothing. The only problem <i>was</i> Stiles, he couldn’t seem to stop reminding them of how naive they were being for trusting someone they hardly knew so fast--had the past taught them nothing? Scott had to admit that in the past he had trusted too quickly, his thoughts slipping to when Theo had first arrived--how Stiles had warned him and he hadn’t listened. Maybe he had a point? But he also knew that Stiles had a past of being suspicious and paranoid, and Marisol just didn’t come across as the type of person who could hurt someone. He made a mental note to ask Stiles how much adderall he’d been taking lately.</p><p>When it came to everyone else, they couldn’t speak of anything but how wonderful Marisol was. Malia was her biggest defender, insisting that she was too sweet and patient to be anything other than a human--at the last pack meeting she’d even told Stiles she’d have no problem letting Marisol take his place. It wasn’t that Scott felt they <i>needed</i> to all accept her, he was fine with his friends disagreeing with him, but what he saw as troublesome was that they were at the point where they had to have pack meetings about whether or not they could have new friends. They were still in high school, and while one half of their lives was filled with danger and the supernatural, he wanted the other to be that of a normal teenager--having fun, going to parties, making new friends, graduating.</p><p>Scott was so caught up in his thoughts, he missed the sound of the bell ringing, indicating that someone had walked into the clinic, and he hadn’t heard them calling out to see if anyone was there. It wasn’t until Scott realized he could hear a new heartbeat that he caught onto the fact there was someone waiting out in front. And it took him another moment still, to remember that Deaton had gone home early for the day--though he suspected he hadn’t gone home, and his absence would be longer than a day--it always was when Deaton decided to leave. Making his way to the lobby, he noticed a young woman putting up a flyer on the bulletin board advertising pet care services.</p><p>“Hi there! Can I help you?” He asked, donning his friendly customer service voice.</p><p>The woman turned around with a smile, “Afternoon! I didn’t hear anyone answer when i walked it, I thought maybe the doctor was gone--he wouldn’t happen to be in, would he?”</p><p>Scott shook his head, “Sorry that was my fault--I was in the back doing inventory and didn’t hear anyone come in. Doctor Deaton isn’t in, I'm afraid. He left for the day. Did you need him specifically?”</p><p>“No I don't think so, I came down to drop off some business cards and that flyer. I spoke with Dr. Deaton just the other day and he said it’d be okay if I did. We’d had a nice chat, so I just thought I’d drop in, hand out some cards, maybe see how he was doing.” She walked over to the counter and handed him a stack of her business cards--her name written at the top and advertising her pet care services. She’d sensed another werewolf as soon as she came in and she wondered if the boy before her was the one she was looking for, or a member of another pack.</p><p>“Sorry, I should have probably started off with my name. I’m Aurora.” She extended her hand toward the boy. Scott shook her hand enthusiastically and smiled as he looked over her cards. That was when she felt it, <i>an alpha</i>--it had to be him.</p><p>“This is really neat, have you been doing this long?” he asked, genuinely interested and wondering to himself if this was something he could take up to make some more money--help out at home, and maybe even to help pay for college.</p><p>“I’ve been watching and taking care of family and friends' pets since I was in high school, but only professionally for about 2 years. It's the best job i’ve ever had, even with the few mishaps along the way...Anyway, thank you for letting me drop these off, and say hi to the Doc for me, will you?” Aurora turned to leave, but not without first getting confirmation.</p><p>“Sorry, what did you say your name was?” She turned back, looking at him.</p><p>Scott could feel a blush come over him in embarrassment at forgetting to introduce himself, “Uh, Scott McCall. It was nice to meet you.”</p><p>Aurora couldn't help the smile that came over her at having her suspicions confirmed. She turned to face him fully and gave him a once over, smiling slyly at him, a teasing glint in her eye, “You wouldn’t happen to have AP Biology first period?”</p><p>Scott was overcome by shock that this stranger seemed to know a part of his class schedule--how did she know? Did she already know who he was? Did she come in here knowing, maybe even looking for him? Did she know everything? Maybe he should listen to Stiles more, be more alert, more cautious.</p><p>Aurora could feel the growing tension in the air--the electricity that warned her that if she didn't say the right thing quickly, it would only escalate until it snapped. But even then, she couldn't help the excitement she felt at finally meeting the boy she had learned so much about--who had exceeded all her expectations. “Sorry! Uh, Marisol told me about you! I guess you’re the one I have to thank for helping Marisol on her first day! She's been telling me about you and your friends, which really, thank you, her smile has been a welcomed addition to the dinner table.”</p><p>The desired effect was immediate. Relief.</p><p>“You’re Marisol’s cousin! Yes she's told us about you too! Is she here with you?”</p><p>“She conveniently had to go downtown to get her car looked at when I asked if she wanted to help, even though this was her idea. And what, may I ask, has my dear cousin been telling you all about me?” Aurora said in a playful tone, wondering if he knew more about her than he let on. “Nothing embarrassing I hope, just might have to get her back for it.”</p><p>“Nothing embarrassing...yet!” Scott laughed, teasing her a little. “She just mentioned how you’ve both been traveling the past few years, trying to find a town that feels like…like your old home.” He hoped he didn't bring up anything he shouldn't have.</p><p>“Delaware is a hard place to measure up to; I’m lucky to have plenty of wonderful memories of it.” Aurora gave him a small smile, “I will say, though, that Beacon Hills has been a nice change of pace. The last few places have been large metropolitan areas. I may miss the public transportation, but can not deny the peacefulness the closeness of the mountains and colder air brings me. God knows I need it, we’ve been through so much...”</p><p>There was a sudden lull in the conversation, and Aurora quickly changed topic before things could get awkward, “So, say I was looking to have a fun time... “paint the town” as they say...where would be a good place to go? Also, I could really use some food recommendations, there is only so much pizza a body can handle.”</p><p>Scott was more than happy to help her, telling her the best places to get some late night tacos and what, according to Lydia, was the best place for coffee study sessions. He tried to think about what might interest a 20-something year old, thinking that maybe what he liked to do for fun wasn’t what she was looking for,“You know, the next town over is a bit out of the way, but it has some better clubs and from what I hear they don't water down the drinks.”</p><p>“From what you hear?” Aurora squinted hard at him, making a show of how much she wasn't buying it. Scott stuttered awkwardly, trying to backtrack and defend himself, when Aurora interrupted, laughing, “Relax kid, it wasn't too long ago that I bought my first fake ID. Although if you guys ever take Marisol, believe me when I say I will know and you should not be surprised if you find me there.”</p><p>Aurora stared him down again, letting him know just how serious she was and Scott couldn't help but smile, finding Aurora’s protectiveness of Marisol endearing. “I promise we won’t--unless she wants to.”</p><p>Aurora, squinted at him but nodded in agreement.</p><p>“There <i>is</i> a mall just north of here and you can never go wrong with the bowling alley. It does get busy on weekends, so it's best to reserve a lane a few days in advance.”</p><p>

“Awesome, I love bowling! Thank you for the info Scott McCall.” Aurora smiled warmly at him, glad to see that Marisol was right about him, and feeling even more confident in their move to Beacon Hills. “Hopefully I can get the house in order and Marisol will be able to have you all over--I’d love to meet the others.” Aurora stood up from where she had been leaning against the counter, and turned to walk out of the clinic.</p><p>“See you around.”</p><p>Scott smiled as he watched her exit the clinic and walk to her car. He had always trusted his instinct, it was what had kept him alive and allowed him to come so far. He knew that as Alpha he should be cautious of newcomers who might pose a threat to the family he and the others have built, but he couldn't help that feeling of how similar the two were to them. They had both shown that they loved and protected each other fiercely, both of them having survived the tragedy of the death of Marisol’s parents, surviving together. They weren’t all that different to him, even if they didn’t know about the supernatural--tragedy was tragedy, and love was love. If Stiles and Mason had been so open, so willing to accept their friends, then maybe Marisol and Aurora would be no different. Scott hoped that should the pack decide to tell them the truth about themselves, about their past, even about the history of Beacon Hills--Aurora and Marisol would be understanding.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter Fourteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>sexy times ahead ;)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tw for consensual sex scene</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aurora was out jogging around a new neighborhood with her newest client, Tomorrow.  When she’d received the offer to walk this new dog, she couldn’t believe what this family had named their golden retriever, but she had to admit it was original. She was on her third lap around the park, and Tomorrow was having no trouble keeping up with her pace, happily panting and running alongside her. It had only been a few days since she first dropped off her contact info at the clinic, but it appeared to be already paying off, and it also helped that she was apparently the only walker on the app in town. In the next week alone, she had four new clients that she’d have to meet and impress to keep them on as regulars, and hope that they weren’t as picky or high maintenance as some she’d had in the past. And while she should have been worrying about meeting these new clients and practicing her introduction, she found her mind constantly slipping to her date that night.</p><p>She’d been only a little surprised when she received a call from Peter, the mysterious bookstore cutie, asking her if she was free the next week and if she would do him the honor of joining him for dinner. She’d played it off as casual interest and agreed, but in reality, she was excited and nervous as all hell--it had been a long time since she’d been on a proper date, and even longer since she’d had any fun, and Peter looked like <i>a lot</i> of fun. Aurora felt embarrassed to admit that it was all she had been thinking about, and despite her best efforts, she found herself constantly lost in thought and worry over the date. It didn’t help that ever since Peter called her up on Saturday, Marisol has been sending her all of the dumb werewolf memes she could possibly find, causing her to blush each time one was about dating one.</p><p>After finishing her jog and finally succeeding in tiring out Tomorrow, she dropped off the dog and headed back home to get ready for the date. Walking through the door, she dropped her keys and wallet in the bowl by the entrance and proceeded to rush upstairs to take a shower. One shaved leg later, she wondered whether a first date was really worth the effort of having to shave the other--she decided not to feel guilty about going for it, and knowing that anything that happened was purely her choice and because she wanted it to. Stepping out of the shower, she dried herself off before slipping on her robe and going to her bed to relax and choose what to wear.  Suddenly it hit her. <i>Oh no</i>, she thought. <i>Oh no, no, no, no, no, no</i>.</p><p>Quickly running to her closet, she tore through her clothes, frantically looking up down hoping to find something that would ease her anxiety, it was then she saw that she had absolutely nothing to wear. Panicking, she grabbed her phone from the bed and sent off an S.O.S. text to Marisol, hoping that somehow she’d be able to help with this debacle, even if she’d hadn’t been on a date in years, Marisol had to be able to help.</p><p>Within seconds Aurora got a frantic response from Marisol.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Marisol: WHAT’S WRONG?</p>
  <p>Aurora: I have nothing to wear on my date!!!</p>
  <p>Marisol: OMG I thought you had a REAL emergency!</p>
</blockquote><p><i>Thanks, really feeling the love and support</i>, Aurora thought, rolling her eyes and shooting back another text. She started to pull out a few outfits and all the dresses she had, laying them on her bed and snapping a few photos before sending them all to Marisol.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Aurora: This <i>is</i> an emergency! And don’t you roll your eyes at me, I know you’re doing it! HELP MEEE!</p>
  <p>Marisol: The one on the far left looks okay…</p>
  <p>Aurora: Okay? OKAY?? I need more than that! I need smoldering temptress! This guy doesn’t seem like the wilting flower or bright n’ bubbly kinda guy.</p>
</blockquote><p>Aurora added a few crying emojis for emphasis. Giving up on receiving any kind of useful suggestions from Marisol, she started to go through what she had pulled out and narrow down her options, holding each outfit up in the mirror in hopes of finding one that worked. She heard the phone go off with Marisol’s text alert and looked down to see her only response was the question “What time is the date?” She thought it was strange since she had definitely mentioned it before, but maybe Marisol really had forgotten, even though she didn’t see how her question was relevant to the situation at hand. She quickly text her response and got back to the situation at hand when another text came through, almost immediately after.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Marisol: What are your sizes?</p>
  <p>Aurora: Why?</p>
  <p>When no reply came, she answered with her sizes, slightly annoyed and offended that Marisol didn’t already know them.</p>
  <p>Marisol: Relax, we’ll be there after school and will have you ready in time.</p>
  <p>Aurora: Wait, what? We? Whose we?</p>
  <p>Aurora: Marisol, who is We?</p>
</blockquote><p>After minutes of no response, Aurora decided Marisol must have gotten busy in class and it was probably best not to bother her for the time being--though secretly, she wished Marisol had dropped everything she was doing and come to her rescue. She laid back on her bed, and turned on one of the podcasts that she had taken interest in of late, hoping that maybe a distraction would calm her down and she’d be able to choose what to wear.</p><p>She must have fallen asleep listening to her podcast and waiting for a reply because the next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake by Marisol. “Here.” Marisol spoke quietly as she shoved a bag of what smelled like greasy fast food in her face, “You’re gonna need this. I hope you know what you brought down upon us and remember that you asked for this.”</p><p>Why did that sound like a warning?</p><p>“Okay, lets see what I have to work with.” A voice was heard from behind them, making Aurora turn around and come to the realization of what Marisol had meant when she had said “we”. Walking towards the bed was a small red-haired girl, with more attitude and fashion sense than all of New York Fashion Week combined, or at least Aurora thought so, she’d never really seen anything on any fashion week. As the girl changed her course from the bed to the closet, Aurora was able to sense a supernatural glow about her. She looked over at Marisol, a question written on her face which was confirmed by Marisol’s tight lipped smile. <i>This must be Lydia</i>.</p><p>“Get up, we have two hours to make you presentable.” Lydia spoke with such authority and determination that it was not missed by Aurora, and it prompted her to stand up from where she lay and walk toward the closet, turning and twirling when motioned to.</p><p>“I’m going to go get something to drink.” Marisol interrupted abruptly, standing from her spot on the bed where she’d been sitting quietly for the past ten minutes. “Lydia would you like anything?”</p><p>Lydia shook her head and continued to eye Aurora up down, turning from her figure to the clothing she had now hung on the closet door.</p><p>“So your name is Lydia?” Aurora asked, hoping to start a conversation to ease the awkwardness that clung to the air and silently cursing Marisol for leaving her to her fate.</p><p>Lydia only nodded while motioning for her to spin around again, glancing between her and the clothes Aurora had just now noticed was hanging up in her closet doorway.</p><p>“Wait wha--where did those come from?”</p><p>“Marisol and I made a stop to pick up some basic supplies, but next weekend if you are free, we are going to the mall. If you aren’t, cancel.” Lydia sighed and turned back to Aurora, a dress in hand.</p><p>Before Aurora even had time to protest, she was being pushed towards the bathroom and handed the new clothes with express instructions to try each one on, even if she didn’t think it would look good. She did as she was told, showing off each dress to Lydia who always asked her to walk this way and that before doing a spin and going back to change into the next outfit. After a good half hour, Lydia finally allowed her to slip back into her robe, sitting her down in front of her, and pulling out what little makeup Aurora had.</p><p>“Marisol was right, most of this is expired.” Lydia commented, turning over the foundation she held in her hands.</p><p>“Yeah...Sorry?”</p><p>Lydia waved off her apology and quickly got to work, pulling a few of her own things from out of her bag. Aurora tried to relax while Lydia went to work on her face, closing her eyes and letting herself be plucked, pulled, and brushed every which way before being told to finish changing into the final outfit. When she finished, Lydia guided her back toward her bed so that her back was turned to the mirror, touching up her lipstick and adding another layer of mascara--the last finishing touches before presenting her final piece. As she sat there being primped and groomed, Aurora thought back on the last time she had been made up for a date like this and a pained expression crossed her face.</p><p>“Aurora?” Lydia asked, a concerned look written all over her face. “Are you okay? Do you not like it?”</p><p>Aurora shook her head, “No the dress is perfect, and I'm sure the hair and makeup are masterfully done, just what I wanted--probably better than what I wanted... It’s just... Sorry, I just remembered something that I'd hadn’t thought about in a really long time.”</p><p>She stayed still for a moment, remembering a time when things were simpler and life was fuller-- a time when she had more family than she could ask for. She felt her eyes start to fill with tears that threatened to spill at any second.</p><p>“You know, the last time I got this worked up about a date, I had to recruit help from my roommate, who had to recruit help from her girlfriend.” Aurora chuckled quietly, her gaze distant and lost. “My roommate was a lot like me--never bothered with learning makeup, but her girlfriend loved it. I mean, she always looked ready to conquer the world... After that day the three of us were basically inseparable.”</p><p>Lydia wondered how a memory such as that could make her sad, but thought it better not to ask knowing that it wouldn’t do to dwell on it before a date, so she smiled softly and continued on making sure each hair was in place. Marisol on the other hand understood the sadness in Aurora’s eyes, and stayed quiet.</p><p>
Aurora shook her head, trying to dislodge the thoughts from her mind, “Am I finished? May I look?”</p><p>Lydia smiled brightly at her and nodded, turning her around and finally allowing Aurora to finally view herself in her full length mirror. Aurora turned her head side to side, admiring her reflection and turning freely without being instructed to do so, letting the wonder she felt show through her smile, which quickly turned into a sly smirk, “Oh Lydia, you are <i>amazing</i>! We are definitely going to the mall next weekend. And you’re going to have to help me to convince Marisol to join us.”</p><p>“Not happening. Besides it’s not like we have any disposable income right now.” Marisol sat up from her lying position on the bed, chastising Aurora.</p><p>Aurora smiled at her with a look in her eye that meant she was completely wrong, “Sure we do.”</p><p>Marisol narrowed her eyes at her, seeking an explanation.</p><p>“What, you really think I'm so irresponsible that I wouldn’t have saved all of the fish money?”</p><p>Lydia looked at Marisol with a questioning glare and only mouthed <i>“fish money?”</i>, which Marisol ignored, suddenly realizing the truth that Aurora had withheld from her for so long.</p><p>“Wait, you mean we could have actually stayed at decent hotels instead of slumming our way up California in dirty campgrounds?”</p><p>“I mean yeah, but where would the fun be in that. What about the wonderful experiences we had--you think we’d still have those great memories if we hadn’t done that?” Aurora argued.</p><p>“I'd have much rather experienced a private toilet with a private shower thank you.”</p><p>Lydia couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of her at seeing the cousins bicker. This whole week had been spent trying to get Marisol to come out of her shell, and while she was doing really well at making connections with some members of the pack, seeing her go at it with her cousin was the most insight she’d gotten on the girl than she had during their lunches together. It was refreshing to see her being bold and loud for once and Lydia wondered if they would ever get to see this Marisol at school, or if this person only came out when Aurora was around. Lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed that the two had continued bickering over their past experiences, though now there was more laughter involved than arguing.</p><p>“All I’m saying, is you could have at least told me we had the option!” Marisol countered Aurora’s defense of herself. “You think I enjoyed having to shower next to 70 year-old Norma? All she did was talk about her dead husband and how she still made love to his ghost!”</p><p>Aurora laughed loudly and was about to respond when the doorbell rang. “Oh shit. Is it really 7 already?”</p><p>She picked up her phone and checked the time, seeing that her date was in fact 10 minutes early and she couldn’t decide whether she liked that or not. Even though she was practically ready, she still would have liked the extra minutes to mentally prepare.</p><p>“I’ll get the door.” Marisol called back at the two girls as she ran out of the room, and rushed down the stairs, anxious to see what Aurora’s date looked like after all the time and effort they had put in. Meanwhile, Aurora ran around her room grabbing her purse and the shoes Lydia held out, before rushing out the door after Marisol.</p><p>“Good luck,” she heard her call out as she went downstairs scrambling to slip her heels on as she chased after the younger girl. She was still trying to get her shoes on when Marisol opened it, Peter standing on the other side of the door, looking handsome as ever with the same smirk on his face as they day he’d introduced himself in the library. Aurora slowed as she walked down the rest of the stairs, trying to calm her breathing after having looked Peter over and realizing that all her nerves and anxious thoughts had now turned into <i>other</i> thoughts.</p><p>Marisol stood in front of the open door, looking Peter over once and feeling immediately disappointed that he hadn’t dressed up in the way her cousin had. She squinted at him in a way that let him know she wasn’t pleased with his look. “Alright, <i>Peter</i>. You promise to show my cousin a good time and have her back by twelve?”</p><p>“<i>Twelve</i>?” Peter looked past the young girl in front of him, to Aurora who stood at the base of the stairs, strapping on her left shoe. Turning back to Marisol, he smiled at her </p><p>in what he assumed was a charming manner, “I didn’t know that I’d have a curfew. Is that usually how things go with you two?”</p><p>“Hmm no.” Marisol smiled back at him. “But we’re new to town, and I don’t know you.”</p><p>“Well,” He chuckled softly, surprised by the girl’s protectiveness over her elder. “I cross my heart then. Scout’s honor!”</p><p>“Hmm, cute.” Marisol scoffed at him, still not impressed, but moving aside to let Aurora through the door. She reached over and gave her a hug, “Have fun and be safe.”</p><p>“Always,” Aurora winked at her and Marisol wrinkled her nose in distaste at her joke, already aware of the scent Aurora was giving off and how not-appropriate it was that she wasn’t trying to hide it. Waving her off, she walked back up the stairs to where Lydia was still waiting in Aurora’s room.</p><p>“Hi,” Aurora looked up at Peter, giving him a once over, and noticing that while he was only wearing a v-neck and jeans, he looked <i>damn fine</i>. “Huh, I think I'm a little overdressed...”</p><p>“Nonsense, you look amazing.” He reached for her hand, laying a kiss on it and looking up into her eyes. “You’re definitely going to attract attention this evening.”</p><p>Aurora wanted to stop the blush that was no doubt creeping up her face, but it had been awhile since someone besides Marisol had complimented her, and this one made her feel things she hadn’t felt in a while. She stepped outside and closed the door behind her hoping that Marisol wouldn’t give her a hard time later, but knowing all too well that she’d have to spill the details of her date to her. Which made her think she needed to make some older female friends, someone she could go to for advice on dating, who could help her know what she should do on a first date with a man ten years older than her. She sent a prayer out to the universe asking that not she embarrass herself tonight. Once inside his car, she felt her confidence growing and thought maybe she had only been worried about embarrassing herself in front of Marisol and Lydia.</p><p>Peter put the car in drive and took off into the street, turning to look at her and smiling before looking back at the road. Aurora took this time to really look at him. She let her eyes roam over his face, noticing the stubble that grew on his chin and the soft lines that marked the edges of his mouth. She unconsciously licked her lips, thinking about how soft Peter’s would feel against her own, and how, if she was picking up on his energy correctly, he’d turn rough with some encouragement. Lowering her gaze, she moved down to his chest--looking broad and chiseled even under his shirt, his arm and shoulder muscles accentuated by the cut of his v-neck. How she’d really like to rip the shirt off him, take a good look at what was underneath.</p><p>“I bet that shirt would look great on me.” Aurora slapped her hand to her mouth, realizing she had said that out loud and that the last few minutes she had been silently lusting over the man in front of her (which he had surely picked up on). She’d really only wanted to compliment him, but somehow her thoughts got the best of her, taking control of her mouth. Even then, she couldn’t deny that the thought of waking up in his bed and wearing nothing but his shirt was running through her mind, and tempting her to speed the date up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that...out loud.”</p><p>Peter chuckled and glanced over at her, raking his eyes up and down her figure “You’re probably right, though. And I’ll admit...I wouldn’t mind testing out your theory.”</p><p>Aurora laughed and looked over at him. <i>I can’t believe Marisol found me a date within a week of being here, and he might just be perfect… at least to look at</i>. Just then her phone alerted her to a new text.  </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Marisol: Be safe! Both in general and as in use protection!</p>
</blockquote><p>Aurora huffed and shook her head, putting her phone on silent and placing it in her purse. Peter turned to look at her, catching the way she rolled her eyes and smirked after putting her phone away. “Nothing important, I hope.”</p><p>“Uh...no...It’s just, Marisol. She’s checking up on me. All of...ten minutes after I’ve left.”</p><p>“She cares about you a lot it seems.” Peter couldn’t decide if it was sweet or annoying.</p><p>“She does.” Aurora didn’t feel like going into her life story with a stranger, no matter how hot he was, and talking about Marisol always felt more personal than she wanted it to be. Their life was anything but simple, and even an explanation on their overprotectiveness was too much information to hand out to someone they had just met.</p><p>“I, uh... I meant to say that you look great in that shirt.” Aurora laughed awkwardly and looked out the window, hoping that the heat rushing to her face would go away if she stopped looking at him.</p><p>“Uh-huh. That is definitely what I thought you meant.” Peter responded playfully.</p><p>“I swear it was!” Aurora lightly tapped him on the arm before covering her face with her hands. “Oh God, I’m sorry. It’s been awhile since I’ve done this and I seem to be a little out of touch.”</p><p>“No worries.” Peter paused to really look at her, noticing the way the moonlight fell on her face and lit her eyes up, making them glow brightly. They were a beautiful deep brown, and he thought he’d never seen anything like them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this entranced by a woman. The last few years had been spent with him just looking after himself and finding a way to not feel guilty about how he wasn’t looking after his own kid. Shaking those thoughts out of his head, he focused on Aurora again. “I was being honest back at the bookshop. I tried my best to focus on finding a book to read, but my eyes always found their way back to you. If you don’t mind my asking...why has--I mean for a woman like you--?”</p><p>“Why has it been a while?” She interrupted, anticipating his questions and deciding she could divulge at least some information, if she kept it vague enough. “I guess it’s just been easier not to? Date, I mean. I had a few here and there, but after I became guardian of Marisol, she was my main priority. And traveling, I’ve found, only puts extra strain on a relationship.”</p><p>Peter put that little bit of info away to ask about later, wondering how she gained guardianship and what their whole story really was. “She seems like a passionate kid. Cares for you very much.”</p><p>“Yeah, we both are pretty protective of each other,” Aurora laughed at herself, “Wow, I sound like a single-mom stereotype.”</p><p>“Only a little.” Peter teased, turning his focus back to driving.</p><p>Aurora was thankful for the break in the conversation. This was steering toward uncomfortable territory, and she’d rather lust over Peter than end up crying in his car about how she’d felt so lonely recently, or how she’d lost possibly the biggest love of her life, dooming her to forever wonder about the life that could have been. She looked out the window and sighed before turning back to look at Peter, letting her thoughts drift back to the ones from early, and letting her eyes drift over his figure. This time, they drift a little lower than before. She observed the way his shirt fit tight against his stomach, and how the back had lifted when he sat down, just enough to show a bit of his skin. His jeans fitted to his thigh, leaving little to her imagination, though really, she could imagine a lot. She fought the urge to look a little higher past his thigh, thinking she had to gain some form of control over herself.</p><p>It had been so long since she had felt this way toward someone and she wasn’t sure where these feelings were coming from--surely it couldn’t just be the man in front of her that caused her to feel this way. Still, she welcomed them, and let herself enjoy the view that sat before her. She licked her dry lips, tasting the lipstick that Lydia had chosen out for her, and hoping that she hadn’t smeared it. Peter turned to look at her and smirked--he could feel the sexual tension radiating off of her and couldn’t help but shift in his seat to fight the feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.</p><p>“Say Peter,” Aurora leaned over and slowly slid her hand up his thigh, smiling sweetly and leaning closer to his ear to whisper. “Did you make reservations for dinner?”</p><p>Peter only nodded his head, doing his best to keep his eyes on the road, but Aurora could smell the lust dripping off him. Strong, pungent, and strangely delicious. She knew she had him where she wanted him, and boy did she want him. Letting her breath linger on his neck, she moved her hand up to caress his cheek, watching as he closed his eyes on instinct, only to snap them open again and try to regain control of himself.</p><p>“You want to know something I’ve never done before?” Aurora was now close enough Peter could the tingle of her breath on his ear as she whispered softly. “It’s always dinner and a movie, or a walk in the park, or sometimes it’s just having beers downtown. Everyone always wants to be the gentleman, always wants to wait until they know me a little better...”</p><p>Peter tried to stop the shiver that went through him when he felt her lips grazing his ear, thinking he had to hold it together or else he’d crash the car. He couldn’t ignore the feeling of his pants tightening around his crotch, and he could feel the blue of his eyes shine through, but he forced himself to stay strong. The tension in his pants wasn’t missed by Aurora and she smiled to herself, feeling excited about what might come next.</p><p>“Honestly, I could do without the formalities...right now I just want to throw you on a bed and have my way with you... So what do you say we skip dinner?”</p><p>Her question was answered by the way Peter shifted into fifth gear, picking up more speed and weaving in and out of traffic. Usually Aurora would feel anxious when someone else was behind the wheel, but watching him confidently weave his way through traffic was making her feel more excited about what was to come. She knew that he could sense her becoming more and more aroused, that he could smell the lust radiating from her skin--the heavier her scent became the faster he seemed to drive.</p><p>After what felt like hours, the car finally came to a stop. Peter quickly put it in park, and looked over at Aurora, listening as her heartbeat quickened when her eyes met him. She waited to for him to say something, ask her for reassurance, but sensing that he wasn’t the type to ask, she spoke first. “Which one is yours?”</p><p>“Fourth floor, 419.”</p><p>They wasted no time in getting out of their car and rushing into the building, making their way up, Aurora laughing the entire time, teasing Peter by staying just out of his reach. When they reached his door, she heard him pull his keys out, reaching forward to open the door. When she heard the click of the lock, she reached out in front of him, eager to leave the open hallway, but Peter’s hand stopped her from opening it, using his other hand to wrap around her waist and spin her around to face him. He reached up and gently brushed the stray hairs away from her face and leaned in to kiss her, softly moving his lips against hers, pulling her tighter against him.</p><p><i>Oh, he’s good</i>, Aurora thought to herself, eagerly returning the kiss. She grasped his jacket tightly, pulling him closer and moaning quietly and his hand reached down, caressing her side, joining the other at her waist. She placed her hand over his, leading him further down until his hand was resting on her ass.</p><p>“Patience.” he whispered, grinning against her lips.</p><p>“Says the one who blew through 3 stop signs.” She rolled her eyes at him.</p><p>“Worth it.” He laughed as he opened the door, walking Aurora in backwards, and moving to turn on the light.</p><p>As soon as he shut the door behind him, Aurora started to pull at his shirt, reaching under it to scratch at his chest, feeling the heat of his skin under her hands. Peter shrugged off his jacket as quickly as he could before kissing Aurora again, this time more heated than before. First at the corner of her mouth--he kissed her hard and wet, making his way to her jaw, nipping lightly and leaving a trail of saliva as he moved down to her neck, kissing and sucking at the base and leaving red marks wherever he moved. Aurora had to hold back the urge to growl and use her nails to push him to be rougher, she wanted more--she needed more. Opting instead to push him against the back of the door, she firmly grabbed onto his hips, grinding her own against them, eliciting a moan from Peter.</p><p>“This is all very sweet of you, but romance me later. Right now I just really want to fuck you.”</p><p>Peter let out a low growl before reaching down to grab her by the thighs, prompting her to jump and wrap her legs around his waist. Trying not to trip over the shoes and furniture along the way, Peter walked them over to the first flat surface he could reach, which just so happened to be the dining table. He set her down on the edge, moving his hand back to her thighs and waist, grasping at her with a hungry and desperate need, his mouth showing her the same desperation. How long since he had had a woman this way? Once Aurora was steady she reached forward and unbuckled his belt. Peter took over while she pulled off her blouse but became distracted when he looked back up at Aurora. <i>Oh hello</i></p><p>She looked up into his eyes and could feel her whole body blush, she enjoyed the way he looked at her. <i>This is gonna be fun</i>. Peter stepped forward and pushed her back, laying her down and scooting her up the table, closing the space between them. Unbuttoning her pants, he pulled them down along with her panties, tearing them down her legs with such need Aurora hoped he hadn't just ripped them. He smirked at her and made a move to get closer when a pedicured foot on his chest stopped him. Looking from her foot to her face, Peter saw a wicked glint in her eyes and watched as she took her middle finger into her mouth, before slowly trailing it between her breasts and down her stomach.</p><p><i>This little tease</i>, Peter thought, catching a whiff of her and watching as she opened her legs wider, giving him a better view and causing him to groan. Already slick and aroused, Aurora slipped in another finger, pumping in and out of herself as Peter watched with a crazed look in his eye. She watched as his pupils became larger, his nostrils flaring and his breathing hot and heavy. She missed the power she felt watching a man become undone at the sight of her, and in this moment, she knew she was in complete control of their situation.</p><p>“Well, what are you waiting for?” She smiled slyly at him.</p><p>Peter pushed aside the foot that had been holding him back and grabbed her leg, using it to pull her closer to the end of the table. Aurora’s laugh turned into short gasps as he knelt down before her, and immediately began running his tongue over her, drinking every bit of her that came spilling out.</p><p>Longing for more, she tried to move her hips against his face, but Peter pinned down with his hands, taking his time and listening carefully to her breathing and heartbeat trying to gauge what worked best. When he finally turned his attention to her clit she cried out and he smiled against her, proud to elicit such a sound from her. </p><p>Aurora’s hands quickly went from gripping the sides of the table, to entangling themselves in Peter’s hair, giving a hard tug and eliciting a moan from him. Peter maneuvered his hand around to rub at her clit as he alternated between short hard laps and long broad ones, making sure that with each stroke of his tongue, Aurora came closer to the edge. With only one hand to hold her down, Aurora was finally able to move her hips, moving against him as she used her hands to move him where she wanted. She moaned loudly as he continued to eat her out, becoming increasingly aroused by the sound of her own voice, and feeling her climax getting closer. Peter suddenly felt the muscles in her legs tense for a few moments before they relaxed, hanging over his shoulders, same as the hands in his hair as they fell limp against Aurora’s legs. She was sated and could feel her body relaxing before she let Peter help her off the table only to be surprised when he spun her around and bent her over.</p><p>“Rest your forehead against your arms.” He commanded as he swiftly slipped on a condom he had fished out of an end table that stood between the table and the couch.</p><p>Aurora did as she was told and sighed with relief when she heard the sound of Peter opening and putting on a condom. She couldn't help the whine that escaped her as Peter rubbed against her, coating himself with her natural lubrication before lining up and slowly pushing himself into her. She moaned as she felt the length of him fill her completely, and once Peter had his hips flush with her ass he her to brace herself as he started to move. With each movement, Aurora released soft gasps and moans of contentment, feeling her orgasm start to build again each time Peter pulled out and pushed back into her. </p><p>He placed one hand on her hip and another on her back, holding her down while also bracing himself against her, thrusting into her and relishing in the sounds that were coming from her mouth. He moved faster now, gripping her tighter as his movements became more erratic, driven closer to the edge by the feeling of Aurora tightening around him, but careful not to lose himself too much.</p><p>Aurora let him take control as he moved her hips in sync with him, following his rhythm and wondering how much rougher he could get. She was in ecstasy, but she also couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if he were to find out about her being a werewolf. <i>Maybe then he wouldn’t hold back like he's doing now</i>.</p><p>“More,” she pleaded, her breath heavy and her words hardly able to leave her mouth. </p><p>Without hesitation, Peter began to move faster, his thrusts becoming more forceful and he moved the hand on Aurora’s back to her hip, and steady her against him. Aurora snaked her hand under her and started to rub her clit, adding to the building pressure and reveling in the sensation. </p><p>“Spank me.” She ordered, smiling to herself as Peter released a guttural moan and a soft <i>fuck me</i>, before he delivered a sharp sting on her left cheek.</p><p>“Yes!” She quickly felt another sting on her right cheek and left again. This time she involuntarily clenched her muscles. Peter almost lost his rhythm, but now he knew and gave her a few more quick slaps and enjoyed the tight feeling when she clenched. He continued until he warned her he was close.</p><p>“Yes! Fuck!” Aurora yelled as she felt another sting on her right cheek, then left again.</p><p>Peter felt her clench around him, this time involuntarily and knew she was close. With a few more quick slaps, he felt her unravel beneath him, enjoying the slew of curse words that Aurora breathed out as she tightened around him. </p><p>“Fuck, I’m close.” He gasped as he moved one arm around her to pick her up and pull her against him, continuing to thrust upward into her until he came with a loud groan.</p><p>And this time, Aurora came with his name on her lips.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter Fifteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After helping Aurora get ready for her date, Lydia convinces Marisol to go out for once, leading to some strong bonding between the two girls.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So who exactly is it that your cousin is going out with?” Lydia asked, taking a sip from the glass of water that Marisol had offered her, while Marisol rummaged through her fridge looking for something to make. Her phone went off with a text notification which she tried to casually ignore as she sat there, trying to decide the best way to keep Marisol company.</p>
<p>“Uh… some guy we met at the bookshop downtown.” Marisol turned her head back to Lydia after another <i>ping!</i> came from her phone, and watched as Lydia glanced at it, before turning the screen black and ignoring the message. </p>
<p>“So she’s going on a date, looking the way she did...with a guy she just met?” Lydia looked at Marisol sternly, cocking one eyebrow when Marisol smiled tight-lipped and nodded. “Good girl. I’m proud of her! How did you guys even meet this guy?”</p>
<p>“It was kinda me actually?” Marisol heard yet another <i>ping!</i> come from Lydia’s phone and tried to ignore it. She went back into the fridge and took out an onion, setting it on the counter and cutting it up while she talked. “We were just checking out the bookshop and I noticed this guy was checking her out. So naturally, I sent her like fifteen texts and creeped up behind him to make sure she’d notice him. You know...the usual shit I do to embarrass her.” </p>
<p>“So you found your cousin a hot date before finding your own?” Lydia smiled. “Sounds like we have a matchmaker in the group.” </p>
<p>“Oh no no no. I will not take responsibility if he ends up being a loser!” Marisol raised her hands in the air, pretending to wipe them clean. “All I did was point out a hot man that was into her, the rest was all Aurora’s shameless flirting.” </p>
<p>“Now, now. There’s nothing wrong with a little flirting.” Lydia smirked. </p>
<p>“Oh, this was <i>more</i> than a little. I could practically smell the lust coming off of her.” Marisol laughed, remembering the hard time she’d given Aurora that night on their way back home. </p>
<p>“Well, I’m glad that she at least found someone to take her out so she can enjoy herself and finally feel settled in. Have either of you even really been out of this house? I feel like every time I text you, you are either studying at home, or studying in the library.” Lydia’s phone went off another time, making Marisol feel nervous that she was ignoring so many messages just to spend time with her. </p>
<p>“It’s just been...busy...since we moved here.” Outside of the night at the bookshop, most of their days had consisted of settling in and going over what they knew about Beacon Hills--and looking up what they didn’t know, online. She’d wanted to spend more time with the pack, but between school and their research, she hardly had time to sleep, much less go out with friends. So far, she’d turned down every invitation from the pack to hang out after school, always with the excuse that she had something more important to do at home. “I’m sorry I haven’t...really had time to go out.” </p>
<p>“It’s fine.” Lydia, snuck a glance at her phone, seeing that she had about fifteen text messages from the pack’s group chat, most of them asking what they were going to do that night and should they invite Marisol. Everyone seemed to agree on meeting up for dinner and finally making Marisol join them--everyone with the exception of Stiles, who still hadn’t warmed up to her. Lydia knew better than most the dangers of trusting someone too soon, but even she could see that Stiles was overreacting. She’d get Marisol to dinner, and then he’d see for himself what a non-threat she was. “But, I don’t think that being cooped up all the time is good for you. And definitely not good for us.”</p>
<p>Another <i>ping!</i> came through, and this time Lydia text back a hasty reply before setting her phone face down on the kitchen island. Marisol felt guilty that Lydia had taken the time to help Aurora and was now just sitting at the kitchen island, trying to make small talk instead of taking up whatever better Friday night offer she was getting on her phone. Turning back to the fridge and taking out some jalapenos and green tomatoes, she tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, “You know, you don’t have to stay here with me...I’m sure you had plans, and I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that.” </p>
<p>“Nonsense!” Lydia waved her hand at her dismissively, and got up to walk over to her bag. “But, if we are going to spend time together, I’d much rather we go out tonight than stay in. I know you’ve got this whole ‘stay-at-home’ thing locked down, but I...do not. So come on!” </p>
<p>Marisol closed the fridge and looked back at her, wondering if she was being sincere or not. The past week, Marisol had felt more and more included in the pack, and she had grown in confidence when spending time with them, especially after learning from Mason that Scott was already looking out for her. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe they were just being nice. But then again...isn’t that how friends are supposed to be? It’d been so long since she had had friends outside of Aurora, and even when they spent time in LA and there were kids closer to her age, she’d always felt unable to really connect to most of them. She’d found one good friend in Los Angeles--the first person she’d really connected to in years, and then they had to leave--they were always leaving. Maybe it was time for her to let things go, to move on and let herself become a part of something bigger than just her past. </p>
<p>“Okay.” Marisol walked toward the front door, switching out her slippers for her shoes and tossing her purse over her shoulder. “Where are we going? I’ll drive.” </p>
<p>“To eat!” Lydia opened the door and walked out. “And I’m driving.” </p>
<p>
  <b>--------------------------------</b>
</p>
<p>“Are you kidding me? And you never even tried to date him?” Lydia laughed, shaking her head as Marisol took a fry and popped it into her mouth. The two sat in one of the booths at a local diner, sharing a basket of sweet potato fries and each drinking their own shake. Lydia chuckled lightly, going over the story Marisol had just told her in her head. “I don’t get it. He seems like a hottie.” </p>
<p>“Mmm.” Marisol took a sip of her shake and nodded her head. “He was.” </p>
<p> “So, he’s hot. And he stands up to your cousin and his mom in order to host a going away party for you, where his entire family shows up and embarrasses him--he’s not even fazed by it--he dances with you the entire night, and <i>still</i>, you tell him no?” Lydia narrowed her eyes, searching for an answer. “So what was wrong with him?” </p>
<p>“Nothing!” Marisol laughed, feeling silly after confessing her story to Lydia. “There was nothing wrong with him--he was...probably perfect, actually.” </p>
<p>“Uh-huh...What was his name again?”</p>
<p>“Tomas. Why?” </p>
<p>“I’m gonna instagram stalk him.” Lydia smirked, pulling out her phone. “I gotta see if you really missed out or not.” </p>
<p>“Oh my God!” Marisol covered her eyes with both hands, feeling her face get hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t--I didn’t miss out! I just...wasn’t ready.” </p>
<p>“Not ready? To date this fine specimen??” Lydia turned the phone around to face Marisol, pulling the girl’s hands off her face. “You know, there are very few people in this world who would not be ready for a guy like that… and they’re all probably nuns.” </p>
<p>Marisol laughed and pushed the phone away from her face, shaking her head. “There’s a lot more to the story than that! He was sweet and clearly, very beautiful, but it was just...not meant to be.” </p>
<p>“Uh-huh, not meant to be. Well, tell me more about him.” </p>
<p>“Uhmm I dunno. He was a barber, which I thought was weird for a 17 year old, but he was funny and...insightful? You know I didn’t really have much of a connection to my culture before LA, but Tomas was always willing to show me new things--music, books, movies. We went to a few street fairs, ate some really good food. I dunno… he was just fun and open. I hadn’t met someone like him before.” </p>
<p>“So how is that not dating??” </p>
<p>“Well, we never really talked about dating. I mean, we only lived there for three months and honestly, things were a little intense.”</p>
<p>“Oooh. What kind of intense?” Lydia wiggled her eyebrows at Marisol. </p>
<p>“Not… like that.” Marisol laughed softly. “Just like...family drama? But anyway, it was all too fast and too real for me… I needed time, which we didn’t have.”</p>
<p>Lydia looked at Marisol, noticing how suddenly she went from bubbly and happy, to quiet and solemn. It was as if every good memory she had, every story she told, was somehow attached to a sadder one--and sad was not the mood Lydia wanted to set for the night. “Well, that’s just another failed romance to add to the books--and trust me, I have got plenty of those myself.” </p>
<p>“Oh? Do tell? Or don’t… that’s up to you.”  </p>
<p>“Mmm. Well, my first boyfriend kinda turned out to be a...snake? Then the next guy I was into ended up being...older...than expected. I dated a few freshmen for a while--BIG mistake. And the last one...um.” Lydia suddenly realized that her romantic endeavors hadn’t really been all that fun, and the sad mood she was trying to stray from was starting to take over. “He...uh..passed away.”</p>
<p>“What?” Marisol looked at her, concern written all over her face. “I’m so sorry. That’s awful...those all sound...really bad.” </p>
<p>Lydia tried to shrug it off, “A lot...has happened in the past few years.” </p>
<p>Marisol tentatively reached out to take Lydia’s hand in hers, giving her a light squeeze and hoping that she could somehow communicate that she could be there for her, if she needed it. Lydia looked up at her, touched by the gesture, and smiled softly. They had all been through so much, and no one had really had time to process everything that happened--especially in the last few months. They’d just...moved on. It was hard to always be moving on, never really given a break to understand what they were going through. She squeezed Marisol’s hand back. </p>
<p>“Anyway! That’s enough about me, tell me about other boys! What about <i>actual boyfriends</i>.” Lydia wiggled her eyebrows at Marisol. </p>
<p>Marisol frowned at her change of topic. “You know...I know we haven’t really gotten to know each other, but...I’m here if you ever need someone to talk to. I’ve been told I’m good at listening.” </p>
<p>“By who? You’re cousin?” Lydia teased. </p>
<p>“I’ve had friends! Kinda.” Marisol laughed, a blush spreading over her cheeks. </p>
<p>“I’m teasing! I’m sure you are, and who knows? Maybe one day I’ll actually take you up on that offer.” Lydia’s smile quickly turned into a glare. “But don’t think that gets you out of telling me about your love life.”  </p>
<p>“HA! What love life?” Marisol laughed, crassly. </p>
<p>“Oh come on. There has to have been some people? Boyfriends? Girlfriends?”</p>
<p>Marisol just shook her head in response, smiling sadly. She hesitated before going on, “Well, I mean there was someone...but that was a long time ago…” </p>
<p>Lydia didn’t miss the sadness written on Marisol’s face and wondered how long ago it had been, and why there hadn’t been anyone since. “Well, that is something we can easily fix. There are plenty of eligible guys here in Beacon Hills, and we’ll find one for you soon. In the meantime, you’ll have to make due with us.” </p>
<p>Almost as if on cue, Scott, Stiles, Malia and Kira walked in, the bell from the entrance ringing loudly. Marisol looked over and smiled, waving at them as they piled in and made their way toward the booth she and Lydia were sitting at. Kira and Scott piled into the booth next to Lydia, while Malia slid in next to Marisol, leaning back and putting one arm around the back of the booth, and consequently around Marisol. Marisol could feel her face getting hot as a strong, red blush crept up to her cheeks. Suddenly, she was hyper aware of how close she and Malia were--of the arm around the booth, of the knee that was now resting against her own, and more importantly, of the large smile Malia gave her when she said she was glad Marisol had chosen to come out with them. </p>
<p>“Well...it wasn’t… uh, one hundred percent my choice… but um, I’m glad I came.” Marisol struggled to form a sentence as she tried to get a hold of herself and her steadily increasing heart rate--she didn’t want Malia picking that up and then questioning her about it. She picked up her milkshake to take a drink, hoping the cold would lower her temperature and also calm her down, but the deep blush on her face wasn’t missed by Lydia, who was now looking at her straight in the eye and smirking. It also wasn’t missed by Stiles, who looked back and forth between Marisol and Malia, wondering if he had missed something because <i>when the hell did they become so chummy?</i></p>
<p>“So,” Lydia interrupted the quiet tension that only Marisol seemed to be feeling. “Marisol was just telling me about her life before Beacon Hills. And I gotta be honest, your life seemed a lot more exciting than what you’ve got going on now.” </p>
<p>Marisol smirked at Lydia, knowing well she was referring to Tomas, but also knowing that they’re life wasn’t all that quiet either. “It really wasn’t.” </p>
<p>“We have bowling!” Kira leaned forward, smiling at Marisol. “I mean, it’s not the most exciting thing, but it’s always fun when all of us are together.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, just the <i>five</i> of us.” Stiles murmured under his breath, but still loud enough that the whole table heard him. Malia smacked him on the arm, to which he hardly winced, only turning to squint at her before briefly making eye contact with Marisol. He sent her a barely audible ‘sorry’ before looking over at Scott, as if waiting for him to make the decision. Marisol just smiled softly at him, still wondering whether the boy from the other night would ever reappear, or if she had done something to make him dislike her forever. </p>
<p>“Bowling sounds good.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter Sixteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aurora convinces Peter to take her bowling after their little rendezvous. Unbeknownst to them, Marisol and the pack are also hanging out at the bowling alley, where Marisol is struggling to win over a not-so friendly member of the pack.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For a Christmas Eve treat, check out our fluffy Christmas one shots: </p>
<p>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28298091</p>
<p>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28298460</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>Peter hovered over Aurora, watching her as she lay under him, her eyes closed and her breath slowing. He was braced on his arms so as not to put his whole body weight on her, and to better take in her face--it had a calmness and a certain soft prettiness he hadn’t noticed before. Earlier she had only seemed sexy and passionate--a woman who knew what she wanted and went for it. He moved her hair to one side and leaned down, laying soft kisses along her shoulder and working his way up to her neck, smiling when he finally elicited the response he wanted: a quiet moan from Aurora.</p>
<p>Before he could go any further, he felt a firm hand on his chest. “You know, that was exactly what I’ve been needing, and while I look forward to doing this again...I’m gonna need a little recovery time.”</p>
<p>He smirked and lifted himself off of her, propping himself up on his arm as she turned to look up at him. He ran one hand down her arm, stopping at her fingertips before bringing them up to his lips and kissing each one. “You <em>did</em> order me to romance you later…”</p>
<p>“Some romance <em>does</em> sound good, especially now that I’ve been <em>satisfied</em>.” Aurora chuckled, arching her back and stretching her limbs, before letting out a long yawn, “But I gotta get up and stretch, my legs are getting stiff from all that...<em>activity</em>.”</p>
<p>They laughed together and Peter rolled off of her and onto his back, allowing Aurora to sit up on the table and hop off to collect her clothes. Peter sat up and looked around the floor, seeing a trail of strewn clothing leading all the way back to the door, and suddenly remembered how they’d never made it to the bedroom. Aurora turned back to him and watched him in interest, enjoying the view of a much disheveled looking Peter. The after-sex glow looked particularly good on him and even though she was the one who had asked for a break, she was suddenly overcome by the desire to climb back on top of him and take him however she pleased. Peter slid off the table, and started picking up his clothes when he paused for a second, his black v-neck in his hand. There was a sly smirk on his lips as he held the shirt behind his back, and made his way toward Aurora, presenting it to her with a deep bow. Aurora shook her head at him and rolled her eyes, but was more than happy to take it from him and slip it on.</p>
<p>“Tell me good sir...Does the theory prove true?” She twirled around him playful, making sure Peter got a good look of her from every angle, before posing triumphantly, hands on her hips and one leg out in front of the other. The shirt covered just enough of her to remain decent, but Peter still surveyed her, a ravenous look in his eye and his desire and possessiveness overcoming him at the sight of her in his shirt.</p>
<p>“So, uh, bathroom?” Aurora interrupted the tension between them, knowing all too well where it would lead if neither of them had any self control.</p>
<p>“Down the hall on the left.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, be right back.” Aurora scurried toward the bathroom, grabbing her jeans and panties along the way. Once in the bathroom, she pulled her hair back, trying to recreate the look Lydia had styled for her before the course of the night had escalated. Settling for what seemed to be the closest she would get without hairspray and a styling team, she stepped out fully dressed only now with Peter’s shirt tucked into her pants. When she came back out in the living room, she found Peter was dressed and sitting on the arm rest of the couch waiting patiently for her. She made her way over to stand in front of him, “Another v-neck?”</p>
<p>He shrugged in a ‘what can I say’ manner, looking her in the eyes and beckoning her closer. She took another step toward him and started to run her fingers through his hair, combing it back, and tracing her fingers along his jawline. Peter closed his eyes and hummed in response, revelling in the feeling of being touched so softly--it had been a long time since someone had shown him affection in this manner. Aurora was about to speak up, when she was cut off by the most unnatural grumble coming from her stomach in protest of having missed dinner. Embarrassed, she quickly looked down at Peter only to find him trying not to smile and failing miserably.</p>
<p>“Someone’s hungry.” He teased.</p>
<p>“Oh and you aren’t? I missed dinner for this, you know?” She poked him in the chest, trying to seem aggressive despite the second growl from her stomach indicating just how hungry she was.</p>
<p>“If I recall correctly, this little side track was <em>your</em> idea.” Peter squirted at her, a devilish smirk dancing along his lips.</p>
<p>“Maybe so, but don’t pretend you weren’t just as motivated and impatient as I was.” She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to look offended.</p>
<p>“True, but can you blame me?,” he reached for her arms and uncrossed them, pulling her closer and sliding his hands to rest on her hips.</p>
<p>“I can try.” She rolled her eyes at his coyness, trying to fight the smile that was sprouting on her lips. Her stomach’s timing impeccable, it decided for the third time to remind her (quite loudly) that she still hadn’t eaten. “How about that dinner?”</p>
<p>“I don't think our reservations are good anymore.”</p>
<p>“That's okay. Honestly, you could take me to the trashiest, greasiest place in town and I would be happy--so long as the food is good, of course. But if you really wanna win me over, any place that offers deep fried food and cold beer is perfect. With maybe even something fun to do on the side...something like...bowling?” Aurora suggested.</p>
<p>“Seems like you already know where you want to go.” Peter chuckled lightly.</p>
<p>“How about the bowling alley?” She asked, waving her hands around as if her suggestion was an exciting option, hoping she could tempt Peter into taking her.</p>
<p>“Bowling?” Peter scoffed, “Isn’t that a little childish?”</p>
<p>“I know plenty of people who would beg to differ, claim it to be a ‘manly’ sport.” She watched him cross his arms and raise an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed with the idea. “What's the matter old man, afraid you’ll break a hip?”</p>
<p>Peter growled at her teasing, and looked away from her “I am not old.”</p>
<p>“Then are you afraid to lose?” Aurora reached down and lifted his chin toward her, making him look up at her. “Come on, let's go out and have some fun. We can drink a few beers, eat some junk food, and play a game. Then after, maybe we can come back here and you can show off how young and spry you are for your age.”</p>
<p>Peter still wasn’t sure, but he was intrigued by that last part--he could get her back for calling him old. If he was being honest, he found her enthusiasm endearing, and it was rare that he found anything, much less <em>anyone</em> endearing. With an exaggeratedly loud sigh, he threw his hands up in surrender, “Alright, let's go see you lose at bowling.”</p>
<p>
  <b>-------------------------------</b>
</p>
<p>When they had first arrived at the alley, Peter had insisted on paying for everything, sticking to his traditional gentlemanly manners, but Aurora argued that this had been her idea and it didn’t sit right with her that he should pay. After much bickering, Aurora came to the compromise that she would pay for the beers and Peter would handle everything else. She hadn’t given Peter much time to argue after that, as she abruptly and aggressively made her way over to the bar, turning back to give Peter a flirtatious wink and a smile. He had shaken his head, somehow both annoyed by her dominant attitude and simultaneously captivated by it.</p>
<p>Once they had their food and lane sorted, Aurora had made a show of putting on her shoes, bending over right where she knew Peter would have a direct view of her ass. She didn’t even have to smell the air to know that she caught the attention of a few others, since when she straightened up, various onlookers were still unabashedly gawking. She hardly had time to turn back to see Peter’s reaction, when he grabbed her firmly by the hips and pulled her close to him, laying a kiss behind her ear and whispering some ideas he had for later. It didn’t take long before the scent of desire coming off the other men was completely replaced by the sweet and spicy scent of her arousal--a scent that pleased Peter to no end.</p>
<p>Once the game started, Aurora quickly suspected Peter hadn’t believed she was going to do very well, since he had taken it easy his first few frames, scoring low numbers. And while Aurora appreciated that he definitely was not using his powers to play, she wasn’t going to continue to let him think she was bad at this game--oh no, she would play him fair and square, and she would win. After Aurora had started by knocking down at least 8 or 9 pins, she quickly moved on to storing spares, with the occasional strike here and there. It became glaringly obvious to Peter that she wasn’t going to back down and she was definitely playing to win. The game became heated after the third round, when Peter finally decided it was time to up his game, while Aurora continued to pretend she didn’t care if she won or lost. But that was a lie. She 100% cared. She was planning on Peter’s bruised pride to motivate him in proving himself once they went back to his place--she’d only gotten a taste and couldn’t wait to watch him lose the restraint he showed earlier.</p>
<p>Aurora let out a loud laugh and made a show of doing a victory dance in front of Peter. She had just rolled her third strike in a row which put her eighteen points ahead of him, and the disappointed look on his face was priceless. Aurora calculated and even if he decided to cheat and use his werewolf abilities to roll a perfect game from here on out, she would still be able to beat him. From the look on his face, Peter had come to the same conclusion, and Aurora couldn’t decide if his annoyed demeanor made her want to smack him, or if it was turning her on.</p>
<p>“There’s still 3 frames, you might just win this game after all.” Aurora teased, knowing full well that it would only agitate him further.</p>
<p>“Hmmph.” Peter smiled slyly at her, fully prepared to hit a strike on this next turn.</p>
<p>When he stood up for his turn, Aurora gave his ass a playful spank, winking at him when he turned to glare at her over his shoulder. He was just about to throw his ball when Aurora came up behind him, hands on his hips and lips brushing against his ear. Peter couldn’t help the spark of blue that appeared in his eyes, after Aurora whispered a few ideas she had about what she would do to him once they went back to his place. It was only after that he managed to roll three strikes in a row, catching up to Aurora’s score, and almost--but only almost--beating her.</p>
<p>Triumphantly, Aurora walked up to Peter sticking her face in his and planting a heated kiss on his lips, pulling back only to tell him not to be a sore loser. He snarled at her, his pride hurt, but not enough to ruin the night.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna get us more drinks.” Aurora smiled at him before turning away and hurrying away to the bar for some beers.</p>
<p>Peter sat down and sighed, thinking how different his life had turned out to how he had planned it. He was sitting in a booth at a bowling alley, with a woman he had just met who somehow managed to drive him crazy in both a good and bad way, and ah yes, he was still powerless. Not completely, but after that little stunt he’d tried to pull with Scott back in Mexico, he was left defeated and powerless, much to his dismay. Now he was back in Beacon Hills after having narrowly avoided the chaos that broke out a few months prior, and was beating himself up for not having been around to even <em>attempt</em> to steal back his original power. Some grimy teenage kid had gone after that beast and where had he been? Following loose ends trying to track down that annoying nephew of his, Derek.</p>
<p>He looked back at Aurora who was leaning on the bar counter, talking it up with the bartender, and wondered where all this was going. He hadn’t planned to come back to Beacon Hills--not even to attempt to restore whatever could possibly exist of his relationship with Malia. If he was honest, he had no intention of even really forming one, outside of the time he’d taken advantage of her wanting to know her father to get her to almost kill one of her best friends. But now he was back, and up until now he’d managed to stay under the radar--that is until Aurora showed up in his life and dragged him out into the much more public eye. Had he really let a woman trick him into going out bowling? <em>Bowling</em> of all things. Peter hated bowling. In fact, he hated anything that could even resemble fun, but even he had to admit...the last few hours with Aurora had been exceptionally fun. Maybe it would be possible for him to have a fling with her and still manage to stay away from Scott and his pack. And even if they did find out he was back, he could handle a couple of teenagers couldn’t he?</p>
<p>At that exact moment, during that exact thought, a group of teens walked in, laughter ringing in the air as they made their way to the shoe counter. Peter turned back, suddenly aware of a familiar scent, before rolling his eyes at the fate that life seemed to have in store for him. There they were, all five of them, plus a new extra, strolling toward a lane on the other side of the building. At least there was that.</p>
<p>Just then Aurora strolled up behind him, setting their drinks down on the small coffee table, looking over to where Scott’s group had just sad down.</p>
<p>“Huh, Marisol didn’t tell me that she’d be going out with her friends…”</p>
<p>“Marisol? As in your cousin? Hanging out here? With them?” Peter asked, again somehow both surprised and not surprised at the coincidences that lined up for him.</p>
<p>“Uh, yeah...is that an issue?” Aurora didn’t like the tone that Peter held when he spoke about her cousin, a certain distaste that she couldn’t quite place. He’d only met her for a few minutes, how could he dislike her already.</p>
<p>“No of course not…” Peter tried to play it off, catching on to Aurora’s growing annoyance. “I just don’t like feeling like I’m going to be watched and judged.”</p>
<p>“Oh…” Aurora wasn’t fully buying his excuse, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he’d been so much fun earlier, it would be a shame to have to never see him again, or worse, never get to ride him. “No, she won’t do anything like that. If anything, she’ll be more worried about me watching over her...I should go embarrass her!”</p>
<p>Aurora stood up to rush over to make a scene in front of Marisol and her new friends, hoping that maybe she could size them up a little, and get Marisol a little flustered while she was at it.</p>
<p>“Maybe, let’s...finish our second round first.” Peter pulled her back, a firm, but gentle grip on her wrist. “Please. I’d like a second shot at redemption.”</p>
<p>Aurora looked down at him, seeing a sort of coy pleading in his eyes. “Oh, you’ll get a second shot at redemption, it just won’t be in a bowling alley.”</p>
<p>She winked at him before walking over to pick up her ball and start the game.</p>
<p>
  <b>------------------------------</b>
</p>
<p>On the other side of the alley, Marisol was quietly sneaking away from the lane they had been assigned, leaving behind Scott and Stiles to set up the names and the play order of the game. She felt weirdly guilty about being here with them, as if somehow she had crashed their Saturday night plans, or had only been invited because they felt bad. So now she had to make up for it, which she was doing by buying the largest plate of nachos and a round of milkshakes for everyone. They wouldn’t say no to nachos, right?</p>
<p>When she came back bearing a large plate oozing with cheese, the gang was trying to figure out which balls each person wanted to use.</p>
<p>“Oh my god yessss.” Malia moaned loudly as she took a chip and shoved it in her mouth, nodding at Marisol as a thank you.</p>
<p>“I figured we were probably hungry?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, you figured right.” Scott said as he dove into the nachos, piling some onto the extra paper plates Marisol had brought.</p>
<p>“I also got milkshakes...chocolate if that’s okay, but I couldn’t carry them all myself.”</p>
<p>“Stiles, go help her.” Malia waved him away as she shoveled another few chips into her mouth.</p>
<p>Stiles sighed and walked past Marisol up to the food counter, leaning against it as Marisol caught up to him. She could feel the tension that was building between them as they stood there quietly and awkwardly, waiting for the milkshakes to be ready.</p>
<p>“So...do you guys come bowling often?” Marisol asked, trying to fill the silence and hoping to maybe get Stiles to soften up to her.</p>
<p>“Nope. Not really.”</p>
<p>More silence followed.</p>
<p>Stiles took the time to look over at Marisol, trying to gauge just what it was that he didn’t trust about her. It wasn’t like she had given him any reason to suspect her, and the rest of the pack seemed to be excited to have her as a friend--even Lydia, who was normally against new people in their group. But there was just something he couldn’t shake. A feeling that she was hiding something.</p>
<p>He looked at her, sitting on the metal stool, elbows propped up on the counter, with her chin in her hands. Her fingers were pressed against her cheeks squishing them up a bit, and her lips were turned down in a goofy looking pout, making her look even younger than she already did. How? How was she possibly a threat? I mean, look at her. Sitting there looking completely clueless--he’d even dare to say she looked cute. He’d definitely thought that she was the night he’d ran into her in the woods during her jog. Stiles shook his head, questioning his sanity while also trying to shake the voice inside that told him to doubt himself. He had a gut feeling, and he had to trust it. Last time he’d had a gut feeling, he went against it and everything ended up wrong. People died.</p>
<p>“6 chocolate shakes for the little lady and her...<em>boyfriend</em>?” The man at the counter was an older latino gentleman who’d talked up Marisol when she had first gone to order the food and shakes. He’d seemed friendly and fatherly in a way that made Marisol miss her own parents, but now he’d taken it upon himself to be too fatherly, embarrassing Marisol and probably upsetting Stiles in the process.</p>
<p>“NO. Mr. Ramirez. He’s, uh...not my boyfriend.” Marisol had turned beet red, the color reaching all the way to her forehead and even the tips of her ears. It was a logical mistake, but Marisol felt that somehow this had made the tension between her and Stiles even worse than it had been before.</p>
<p>“Yeah. I don’t even know her.” Stiles took the three of the shakes, turning away and leaving behind a very embarrassed and slightly hurt Marisol. She picked up the drinks and said thank you to Mr. Ramirez, who gave her a sympathetic look before returning to his other orders. She walked back slowly, trying to balance the shakes so as not to drop them, when she suddenly saw a hand reach out and take one of the shakes that she had held in her hand. She looked up to see Stiles, giving her a half smile before murmuring what almost sounded like a sincere “sorry.”</p>
<p>Once back at the table, the pack dug into the food and shakes, each standing up to take their turn when their name popped up on the score screen above. They were six rounds in and Marisol was losing miserably, having gotten all of one spare with only two or three other pins knocked down here and there. She sat down laughing as Lydia looked at her and shook her head, chuckling at how awful this new girl was at bowling and how she had definitely chosen the wrong friends to go bowling with--all the others had at least three strikes, with the exception of Stiles, who scored mostly spares.</p>
<p>“You know at this rate, you might actually have a shot at winning the record for <em>worst</em> score of all time.” Lydia teased her and got up to take her turn, following Kira who had just rolled another strike.</p>
<p>“I would actually proudly carry that record. In fact, make me a belt for it and I’d wear it to school.”</p>
<p>“Would you really?!” Kira stared at Marisol with a wide-eyed amusement. “Because I 100% know someone who could make that for you.”</p>
<p>Marisol just nodded, giving Kira an excited smile, and the two went about discussing what they wanted the belt to say. And how big should it be? Would Marisol be wearing it everyday, or was it mostly a statement piece?</p>
<p>“I don’t get it.” Stiles interrupted, ruining whatever plans Marisol and Kira were about to cook up over that loser belt. “You are actually awful. Like GOD AWFUL at bowling.”</p>
<p>“I am…” Marisol squinted at him, answering him apprehensively.</p>
<p>“Why do you like this so much?” He shook his head at her and laughed, smiling at her strange confidence in her terrible bowling skills. It was the first time he’d laughed or smiled all night, and right now he was doing it directly at her, and Marisol was pretty sure she’d felt her stomach do a flip. Was he...being friendly?</p>
<p>“I don’t think you need to be good at something to have fun.” Marisol smiled softly at him. “Not when you ‘re spending time with people you like.”</p>
<p>And there it was. Stiles was an asshole. He felt like an asshole. He’d been so mean earlier, and on previous days--always cold and quiet when she was around, keeping his distance during class, avoiding her if he saw her in the library after school. And here she was, looking at him and saying that she liked him.</p>
<p><em>Them</em>. He tried to remind himself not to get too caught up in whatever confusion he had regarding her. Not to get excited about the way she smiled at him and that soft, happy look in her eyes when she laughed at her ridiculously terrible score. Not to completely lose track of how he <em>really</em> felt about her--which was that he didn’t trust her. And maybe she wasn’t an actual threat, but that didn’t mean that Stiles would let his guard down just because she smiled at him. Though he figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop being so hostile.</p>
<p>“You are so weird.” Malia sat down next to Marisol, once again putting her arm around her while turning her head to the side so they were looking at each other. “But we like you too. Well, at least I do.”</p>
<p>At this, Marisol blushed again. “Thanks.”</p>
<p>She got up from her seat quickly, reaching for her ball and hoping that no one had noticed the sudden silence that lingered between the two as Malia stayed smiling at her. But she was sure no one was actually fooled, since they could all probably hear the sudden increase in her heart rate and smell whatever she was feeling when Malia would look at her that way. Stiles, despite being human, had <em>definitely</em> not missed it, and now sat suddenly concerned about what it meant that he didn’t like the way they had looked at each other. It didn’t make him angry, but he definitely didn’t like it--and he wasn’t sure exactly why.</p>
<p>“Alright alright.” He stood up waving his hands as he reached over for the plate of nachos, which had been sitting empty for the last 20 minutes. “I will get a refill on the nachos, unless you guys want to head somewhere else for food.”</p>
<p>“Real food sounds good, actually.” Kira clutched her stomach, realizing that the only thing they had eaten was a small portion of cheesy tortilla chips and a chocolate shake that wasn’t sitting too well. “I don’t think any of us have had real food since lunch.”</p>
<p>“Well what do you guys feel like?” Stiles sat back down, this time next to Marisol who had decided it was probably best if she stayed away from Malia for a while--at least until she learned how to not get so flustered around her. “Do we just wanna do fast food? Sit in?”</p>
<p>“What about Marisol?” Scott looked over to her, an encouraging smile on his face. “What do you like to eat?”</p>
<p>“Oh anything really…I just don’t know any of the places in town. Me and Aurora have kinda just survived off of pizza and easy home cooked meals.”</p>
<p>“I can give you a quick run down, see what you like?” Stiles leaned over and showed Marisol his screen while he scrolled through the local restaurants, occasionally pointing one out and offering his review to her. Marisol became suddenly aware of how close they were, his shoulder touching hers and she could smell his shampoo--the same scent she had inhaled on her first day when she bumped into him in the main office. He smelled good, and Marisol hoped she smelled good too. Why was he sitting so close? Hadn’t he been ignoring her only an hour ago? Had she finally managed to break the ice with her terrible bowling? She snuck a look at him from the corner of her eyes and realized that he was still going on about the various restaurants in town, and somehow she had missed nearly every word of what he said. “Oh, never go to this place. There is a rat reported there at least once a month. Cockroaches, everywhere.”</p>
<p>“Noted. And also gross.”</p>
<p>“What about sushi, you like sushi?”</p>
<p>“Sushi is good, yeah. What does everyone else want though?”</p>
<p>“We just asked what you wanted to eat and you want to know what everyone else wants?”</p>
<p>“Well what if I pick something that one one else wants to eat? I don’t want you guys to eat something you don’t like just because I chose it…”</p>
<p>Stiles turned to her, a strange and undeterminable look on his face. She’d already bought them all nachos and milkshakes, and now she was more concerned with what they wanted than what she did. Was she always this accommodating? Or was she just trying to win them over? Maybe it was both.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Nothing.” Stiles shook his head. “How does Mexican sound?”</p>
<p>“Are you suggesting mexican food because I’m Mexican?” Marisol frowned at Stiles.</p>
<p>“I..uh, what? No, I wouldn’t assume that. Also, I would never assume that you are Mexican, I mean you could be guatemalan? Chilean? Argenti-”</p>
<p>“Oh my god. I’m just kidding.” Marisol cut him off, laughing at how flustered he’d gotten when she’d called him out. “I love Mexican food, that sounds perfect.”</p>
<p>“That was...so not funny.” Stiles shook his head, letting out a sigh and a laugh.</p>
<p>“It kinda was.” Marisol nodded at him. “I think for like half a second you were scared of me about as much as I’ve been scared of you.”</p>
<p>“I--what? You’ve been scared of me?” This time it was Stiles’s turn to frown.</p>
<p>“Okay! Did you guys decide on what we’re eating?” Scott interrupted, coming up to the two of them from the argument he and the other girls were having about who really won the game, and who had definitely cheated.</p>
<p>“We did.” Marisol smiled up at him. “Mexican.”</p>
<p>“Oh great, I could go for some tacos.”</p>
<p>Scott and the rest of the group slipped on their own shoes and headed to the counter to return theirs, when suddenly he saw Aurora from across the room, doing a victory dance after scoring a strike.</p>
<p>“Hey, isn’t that your cousin?”</p>
<p>Marisol whipped her head around spotting Aurora at the second lane, cozying up to Peter as a consolation for whipping his ass a second time. “Uh, yeah that’s her.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I met her when she came into the clinic the other day. She seems cool.”</p>
<p>“She is…”</p>
<p>“Who’s she with?” Stiles intervened, suddenly curious about Marisol’s mysterious cousin that he knew very little about.</p>
<p>“She’s on a hot date.” Lydia responded. “I helped her get all dolled up for him today, though if I’d known it was for bowling, then I would have definitely suggested something else...wait...that’s not what I picked out for her.”</p>
<p>Sudden realization dawned on Marisol as she realized that the shirt Aurora was wearing bore a striking resemblance to the one her date had on. “Yeah...I don’t think that’s her shirt.”</p>
<p>“Oooh good girl.” Lydia nodded in approval while Marisol tried not to feel embarrassed at her cousin’s sex life being on display.</p>
<p>“She seems to be kicking her boyfriend’s ass at bowling. Guess you didn’t inherit that from her did you?” Kira teased Marisol, leaning her head against Scott’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“He’s not her boyfriend…”</p>
<p>They all turned to look at her, intrigued by the juicy gossip--still teenagers at heart.</p>
<p>“He’s just some guy she met at the bookstore. I..he was checking her out, and then came over and she gave him his number.” Marisol shook her head, smiling at her cousin’s brazen display of affection, as Aurora reached up and planted a heated kiss on Peter’s mouth. Marisol heard her whisper “for luck” and rolled her eyes.</p>
<p>Just then, Peter turned around from playing his turn, leaving the entire pack shocked and wide-eyed.</p>
<p>“Peter?! Your cousin is on a date with Peter?!” Scott turned to Marisol, a desperation in his voice that she didn’t quite understand.</p>
<p>“Uhm. Do you guys know him or something?” Marisol looked at their faces, seeing both the surprise and sudden anger in their eyes.</p>
<p>“Yeah. He’s my dad.” Malia snarled.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter Seventeen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marisol finds herself in need of a ride home when Lydia leaves early. Aurora finds herself leaving Peter's later than planned.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tw for more consensual sex</p>
<p>Happy New Year to all, may you be blessed with a better year than this has been!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>“Okay, wait, why shouldn’t I trust this guy? I mean aside from obviously being a deadbeat dad and a slimeball? Is there any reason for me to think he might be dangerous?” Marisol sat in a booth sandwiched between Stiles and Kira, trying to process all the comments she was hearing about Peter.</p>
<p>“He’s just, not a good guy, okay? Trust us.” Scott gave her a firm look that told her not to push the topic, so she let it drop.</p>
<p>“Okay. I do. I just...have to figure out how to tell Aurora.”</p>
<p>“Out of all the people she could have met and dated, somehow she ends up on a date with Peter.” Stiles wasn’t sure what he was trying to imply, but after their run-in with Aurora and Peter at the bowling alley, he was back to feeling guarded about the two girls. Was it merely coincidence? Or had Peter tracked them down for some reason? Or had Aurora known who he was and tracked <em>him</em> down?</p>
<p>“I don’t know dude. He was just at the same bookstore I guess.” Marisol felt a pang of guilt. “I feel like it’s my fault. I’m the one who told her he was looking at her. I just assumed he was another basic hot white man that would be right up her alley--didn’t think he’d be that much of a creep.”</p>
<p>“It’s okay,” Lydia placed her hand over Marisol’s. “You didn’t know. But now you do and you can tell Aurora to kick him to the curb.”</p>
<p>Marisol smiled at this and felt reassured. Though her thoughts kept going back to the undeniable possibility that he might be dangerous.</p>
<p>“You know what <em>I</em> want to talk about?” Malia, who had been sitting quietly since they had ordered the food, interrupted. “I want to talk about how you moved out to Jersey because you thought the Jersey Devil was a real thing.”</p>
<p>“OH MY GOD! NO. How did you even know about that?” Marisol covered her face with both her hands.</p>
<p>“Wait, I’m sorry. What?!” Stiles cocked his head to the side, suddenly amused at what he was hearing and momentarily forgetting his suspicions about Aurora and Peter.</p>
<p>“Mason told us.” Lydia smiled at Marisol knowingly.</p>
<p>“You actually thought the Jersey Devil was a real thing?” Stiles stared at her, shaking his head at her when she stared back refusing to give him an answer.</p>
<p>“<em>Maybe</em> I sorta kinda thought that <em>maybe</em> the jersey devil was sorta kinda real.” Marisol mumbled, not looking a single one of them in the eye.</p>
<p>“Oh my god!” Stiles burst into loud laughter, leaning against the wall and shaking his head at Marisol, wondering how the hell he hadn’t thought of searching for the Jersey Devil before.</p>
<p>“In my defense!” Marisol started her rebuttal, but then realized she had none that didn’t give her and Aurora away. “...I have no defense.”</p>
<p>“Wait, I mean, is it really that wild that she would have thought it was real?” Kira came to Marisol’s defense, knowing all too well that the pack had seen their fair share of strange creatures, even fought some of them. “There’s historical evidence that hints at it’s being a real thing.”</p>
<p>“It’s not evidence if it doesn’t prove anything.” Stiles countered.</p>
<p>“It is if it’s multiple witness accounts across various different years where they all describe seeing the same thing.” Kira argued, remembering all the times she and her friends back in New York had told the urban legend during sleepovers. They’d always tried to outdo one another, trying to see who could tell the scariest version.</p>
<p>“Witness accounts aren’t reliable.”</p>
<p>“But can it really be merely coincidence that multiple people in completely different decades have all claimed to have seen the exact same thing--described it in the exact same manner.” Marisol interrupted that back and forth exchange between Kira and Stiles, wanting to join in on the debate, get a chance to explain herself. The others looked back at Stiles, waiting for his response and seemingly amused at Marisol’s counter-argument.</p>
<p>Stiles merely squinted at her, amused at the goofy grin on her face, as if she had made a valid point. He was just about to shoot back another sassy remark when their order arrived, the smell overtaking the table and distracting everyone from the conversation. They all dug into their food, momentarily forgetting the ongoing debate, a silence taking over the table as each individual became entranced by the plate on their food.</p>
<p>“So wait…” Scott looked up at Marisol, his mouth still full from the large bite he had taken out of his carnitas taco. “Did you guys ever actually find anything?”</p>
<p>Marisol shook her head, swallowing before she spoke. “Nah, we really weren’t there long enough and most of what you could find is like...tourist trap things made by locals.”</p>
<p>“You sure? I mean I could swear I saw a giant flying monster with red eyes the last time I went to Jersey.” Stiles teased her, shoveling a spoonful of rice into his mouth and feigning all seriousness.</p>
<p>“Ha ha.” It was Marisol’s turn to squint at him, only she did so playfully, glad to see that Stiles was opening up more to her, even if it was by making fun of her silly belief in the Jersey Devil.</p>
<p>“Oh shoot.” Lydia looked down at her phone after a notification had come through. “I forgot I have to meet Parrish today. And I’m already late.”</p>
<p>“Still training with Parrish?” Kira asked.</p>
<p>“Yes, and he does not let me get away with being late.”</p>
<p>“Can’t you ask him to skip this time?” Scott asked, wanting to keep the night going. He was enjoying getting to know Marisol better and was feeling more optimistic now that Stiles was warming up to her.</p>
<p>Lydia gave him a pointed look, “You know better than that. Besides, I quite look forward to our training sessions. So I will see you all on Monday. Marisol I’m sorry, but you’ll have to hitch a ride with someone else.”</p>
<p>Marisol nodded and smiled as Lydia got up to leave. Once she had gone out the door, she put on her best “I’m not nosy” tone and asked, “Who’s Parrish?”</p>
<p>“He’s a deputy for the sheriff’s office here in town.” Malia nodded, finishing off what was left of her drink. “He’s fine as hell and they kinda got a thing going on.”</p>
<p>Stiles gave her a look, once again she was sharing too much.</p>
<p>“What? It’s true.” Malia shrugged.</p>
<p>“Wait...a thing like they’re dating?” Marisol asked, to which Malia responded with a casual nod. “And how old is he exactly???”</p>
<p>“OH! Don’t worry, he’s only 23.” Kira jumped in, knowing the exact concern that was going through Marisol’s head. “And Lydia is 18. And technically they aren’t dating...at least not yet.”</p>
<p>“Why do you care?” Stiles questioned Marisol, once again taken aback by her general concern for his friends.</p>
<p>“Well...I just thought he might be older, or maybe he could be taking advantage of her…” Marisol wondered if she had overstepped her bounds. Was it really her place to judge a friend she’d just met and her dating choices? Was she just projecting her own past onto others?</p>
<p>“Lydia is a lot tougher than she seems.” Scott explained to Marisol, “Plus, Parrish isn’t that type of guy. He wouldn’t take advantage.”</p>
<p>Marisol smiled softly at him, worried that perhaps they thought she had exaggerated. “Sorry.”</p>
<p>“No worries,” Kira smiled at her. “It’s nice to see that you actually care about us already.”</p>
<p>“That being said,” Malia started to get up out of her side of the booth. “We care about you too and we know your cousin would probably be angry at you if you came home too late. You guys seem like curfew kind of people.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know how to take that.” Marisol laughed, following Kira out of the booth and heading toward the exit. They walked out into the parking lot, a light, cool breeze blowing. “By the way...can, uh, someone give me a ride? Lydia insisted she drive and now she’s gone, so….”</p>
<p>“Yeah, hop in.” Stiles walked over to the passenger side of his jeep and opened the door for her. Marisol said her goodbyes, getting a tight hug from Kira and a wave from both Malia and Scott as they headed toward Kira’s car. She climbed into her seat and buckled the seatbelt, watching as Stiles crossed in front of the jeep and settled into the driver’s side. This was going to be an awkward drive, she thought.</p>
<p>---------------------</p>
<p>“Hey, so can I ask you a question?”</p>
<p>Marisol and Stiles had been driving in silence for a good fifteen minutes, the radio quietly crackling between them. Aside from the initial “thank you for the ride” and “no problem” comments, Marisol had spent the majority of the drive looking out the passenger seat’s window and trying not to let her anxiety get the better of her. Why’d she feel so anxious anyway? Hadn’t they just spent most of the evening together? And hadn’t he finally opened up to her? So why was she feeling so nervous?</p>
<p>“Sure…” Marisol answered, apprehensively.</p>
<p>“Earlier today…” Stiles paused, unsure if this was the right moment to tackle this specific subject, or to even bring it up at all. “You uh...said you were scared of me?”</p>
<p>“Oh.” Marisol felt caught. She knew she’d said it but she was mostly teasing him, she hadn’t thought he’d actually paid attention. “I didn’t mean anything by that, I was just being dumb.”</p>
<p>“Okay, yeah, but…” Stiles turned to look at her, noticing that she was looking straight ahead, avoiding him. “But, what <em>did</em> you mean by that?”</p>
<p>Marisol turned to meet his gaze, seeing something written on his face that wasn’t quite concern, but wasn’t apathetic either. “I just...well you don’t like me very much...so I guess I always feel a little intimidated when we hang out.”</p>
<p>“I… what? I didn’t say I didn’t like you, I just--” Stiles cut himself off, knowing well that his behavior since Marisol had arrived at Beacon Hills had been less than friendly, and bordering on aggressive. “Look...I don’t...<em>not</em> like you.”</p>
<p>Marisol shot him an unconvinced look. He certainly hadn’t been welcoming her first week here. Or her second one. Most of the time he seemed annoyed that she was even around, and tonight had been the first night he had said more than just three or four words to her.</p>
<p>“I’m just guarded, okay. It’s nothing personal.” Stiles knew this was a half-assed excuse, but he couldn’t exactly delve into the events of the previous months. How could he possibly wrap all that up in a way a human could understand?</p>
<p>“That’s okay. I get it.” Marisol just nodded at him when he turned to look at her for reassurance. “Really, if anyone came into me and Aurora’s life, I would probably be weary of them too. I mean, I wasn’t exactly excited when she went on this date with that Peter guy, and now...well now...now it’s worse isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Stiles let out a breathy chuckle, which sounded more like a scoff. “But, hey just talk to her. She’ll get it.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. I will.” Marisol stayed quiet for a bit, trying to really take in what Stiles was trying to say to her. He was guarded, and it made sense after everything she’d learned about them--Aurora had filled her in on her talk with Deaton and all of them had suffered more than anyone their age should have. And she knew how it felt--she and Aurora had dealt with their fair share of pain and loss, even having to put aside their grief to be able to properly handle a situation. “And listen...I really didn’t mean anything by it. I don’t expect people to like me right away or take me in--I was just trying to tease, and you know, lighten things up.”</p>
<p>“Yeah no, totally.” Stiles pulled up to Marisol’s driveway, putting the car in park before turning back to her. “I just don’t want you to think that like...I don’t know, you can’t be around me? I’ve been told I can come off as…”</p>
<p>“A butthead?” Marisol supplied.</p>
<p>“You know, that is probably the nicest way anyone has ever worded it, but yeah sure I’ll take that.” Stiles laughed. “Sorry I was being a...butthead.”</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Marisol winked at him. “You’re a pretty cool butthead in my opinion.”</p>
<p>It was dark and she probably couldn’t really see him well, but Stiles could swear he was blushing.</p>
<p>“Anyway, thank you for the ride. I should get inside.” Marisol opened the door and slid out onto the concrete.</p>
<p>“Yeah, no problem. I’ll see you Monday.” Stiles pulled out of the driveway and headed home, but not before turning to make sure she had gotten inside safely. He wasn’t sure what had really happened during that conversation, but suddenly he was more concerned for her than he was suspicious--and that worried him.</p>
<p>---------------------</p>
<p>Aurora’s eyes snapped open and she let out a groan, realizing she had made the mistake of falling asleep, never mind how short of time it had been. Thankfully it was still dark outside, so she let herself relax back into the body behind her, looking around for anything that could tell her the time, but having no such luck. It was definitely past midnight, and no doubt she would have several texts from Marisol reminding her of the fact and reprimanding her for it.</p>
<p><em>She is not going to let me forget this</em>, Aurora thought as she moved to get up, only to be pulled back down by an arm that snaked around her waist--her attempt to sneak away all but forgotten.</p>
<p>“And just where do you think you’re going?” Peter growled sleepily into her ear. He placed a soft kiss behind her ear and enjoyed the quiet moan of desire that escaped Aurora’s lips as he moved the hand he had on her waist lower. Her hips began moving of their own accord, pushing back against his own, and she relished in the feeling of Peter’s fingers stroking her. But it seemed Peter had not yet forgiven her for her actions from earlier that night, as he took to teasing her, allowing his fingers to dance along past her vulva and then moving down to caress the side of her thigh. Aurora would groan in frustration at the loss of contact, but he took his time, stroking up and down at an excruciatingly slow place, just enough to get her going, but never enough to satisfy her.</p>
<p>Aurora groaned with frustration once again, hissing at him through clenched teeth, “You are such a fucking tease!”</p>
<p>He scoffed at her and asked, “And what exactly would you call your actions at the bowling alley?”</p>
<p>“I believe that would be called kicking your ass.” She twisted herself to face him so he could see the sweet smile she had put on, feigning innocence.</p>
<p>Peter was not amused by her playful jab at his ego--clearly she hadn’t learned her lesson earlier. He was suddenly thankful for the speed in which being a werewolf afforded him as in one swift movement he went from being behind her, to hovering over her, one hand pinning her wrists above her and the other pulling her thighs apart, kneeling between them to keep her from closing them.</p>
<p>He leaned over, bringing his face close to hers for a rough and passionate kiss. One turned into two, and two into three, and suddenly it became yet another battle that Aurora was not willing to give up. She pulled away from him quickly, having successfully captured his bottom lip between her teeth, giving him a light tug and a playful growl. For a second Aurora relished in having gotten the upperhand, until Peter gave her a look that said she played right into trap, her small victory suddenly ripped from her as she let go of his lips to let out a loud and lewd moan. He had distracted her with kisses. She hadn’t even noticed his hand creeping up her thigh, ready to finally reward her with some stimulation. All it took was a few minutes more of breathless moans before Peter was rocking into her, peppering her neck with kisses, spurred on by each and every noise that left her lips.</p>
<p>“Fuck, you feel so good baby girl.” He breathed into Aurora’s neck, pushing into her at a steady pace, feeling as her muscles began to tighten around him.</p>
<p>For a moment, Aurora lost her rhythm, not sure if she had heard him correctly, but she chose to ignore it and quickly fell back in line with him, meeting each thrust with a newfound energy. It wasn’t long her legs started to shake, her muscles beginning to spasm as she grew closer to her orgasm. She was getting close and Peter knew it. She tried to grab him, wanting to hold onto him as he took her over the edge, but he still had a firm hold on her wrists, and while it would have been easy for her to use her strength to regain dominance in this situation, she figured blowing her cover was <em>not</em> worth it. Still, it didn’t stop her from imagining his reaction.</p>
<p>Peter had taken her to the edge many times earlier that night, learning a new tell each time and sensing just when she was about to unravel, but when he finally allowed her to reach climax, he had been taking her from behind. He would never admit it, but he hadn’t trusted his eyes not to show, and being behind her allowed him to fully experience his orgasm. The only downside had been not being able to watch her face as she fell apart, but this time he was not going to deny himself this pleasure.</p>
<p>He let go of her wrists, allowing Aurora to reach out and grip the headboard, giving her something to brace herself with. Peter wasted no time in tangling a hand in her hair and pulling her head back and exposing her neck. A shiver down his back as he felt the vibration of her groan when he kissed a trail and to her jaw line. He felt in control and he was loving every second of it.</p>
<p>“That’s it, let Daddy know how-“</p>
<p>Suddenly Aurora stopped all movements as she cut him off with a boisterous laugh that grew in volume with each time she looked at his face--she just couldn’t help herself. His expression gave her the distinct impression that this had never happened to him and that only made it harder for her to contain her laughter. Peter didn’t know what to do except watch as Aurora’s laughter slowly dissolved into giggles and she was left clutching her stomach, trying to catch her breath.</p>
<p>Aurora untangled herself from him, scooting up the bed and sitting against the headboard as she watched Peter’s dick soften, no doubt to the embarrassment he was currently experiencing. A part of her felt bad for him as she watched him gather the sheets around his waist in an attempt to cover up what a few seconds ago had probably been his pride and joy, but she recovered from that quickly as she started running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to untangle it. “I’m sorry hun, but the only man I call daddy is my father and he’s been dead for a decade. Besides, you’re only like what, 8 years older than me?”</p>
<p>Peter rolled his eyes at her and gave her a tight lipped smile, still unsure of how exactly he was supposed to recover from the experience.</p>
<p>“Sorry that we didn’t finish this, but there is no way in hell I’m going to call you that. Besides, I should be heading out now anyway.”</p>
<p>Aurora stood up and went around picking up her clothes before quickly and quietly disappearing to the bathroom. As she cleaned herself off, she took a moment to check her phone, seeing she did indeed have 6 texts and 2 missed calls from Marisol. She shot her a quick response letting her know she was okay and on her way home before emerging from the bathroom, where she found Peter now clad in his pajama pants and in a sitting position on the bed. She wanted to laugh again at the pout sitting on his lips, but managed to suppress it, thinking it was probably best she didn’t continue laughing at him. Instead she sauntered over and climbed up onto his lap, taking his face into her hands and giving him a chaste kiss, “I had fun.”</p>
<p>“Any chance of convincing you to stay?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Thank you, but I already called a ride.” Her phone chimed to alert her that her driver was here and she showed him the screen as proof.</p>
<p>“Get home safe.” Peter grabbed her close and gave her one more searing kiss before he allowed her to leave, waiting until he saw her get in the car before going back inside to bed.</p>
<p>Aurora was thankful that the driver wasn’t in a talkative mood which probably more had to do with the fact that it was 4:30 in the morning, than the fact that she had very clearly just left a man’s apartment at this ungodly hour. She gazed out the window and thought of what she was gonna say to Marisol, when she suddenly noticed the song that was playing.</p>
<p>“Hey would you mind turning it up please?”</p>
<p>The driver didn’t verbally respond, but did turn the volume up a bit. Aurora thanked them and returned to gazing out the window, letting the sounds of The Marías drift her off into a memory--one that seemed so far away and yet so close. A memory of warm hands, and an honest smile, a face brown and golden and beautiful.</p>
<p>‘Disfruto tanto estar<br/>Te quiero amar<br/>Tengo que aceptarlo ya<br/>Aunque me esta matando y más’</p>
<p>She wiped away at the tear that threatened to fall from her eye, and smiled to herself instead.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter Eighteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aurora and Marisol look back on the happier days of their past and (prematurely) celebrate finding a new home, while someone familiar discovers they are not what they appear to be...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>“RISE AND SHINE, BEAUTIFUL!”</p>
<p>Marisol was abruptly (and rudely) awakened by Aurora throwing her bedroom door open and barging in, flopping herself onto the bed with a little too much enthusiasm.</p>
<p>“Nooo, what are you doing?” Marisol looked over at her clock, before pulling the sheets over her head and mumbling from under them. “I literally just fell asleep like an hour ago. Leave me alone. How are you even awake this early on a Sunday? ”</p>
<p>Aurora propped herself up against the headboard, shoving the pillows behind her to offer some back support, “Mmmm...just a healthy dose of endorphins, dopamine, and oxytocin...”</p>
<p>She waited patiently for her dear cousin to understand what she meant by all that, tapping her fingers gently against her forearm and looking up at the ceiling with a sly smile planted on her face. It took only a few seconds for her to be rewarded with a groan of disgust coming from under the covers.</p>
<p>“Ohhh, You’re so gross.” Marisol chuckled lightly, the sound muffled by the blankets piled over her head. She peeked her head out from underneath the covers, laying a hand dramatically over her forehead, looking up at a very amused Aurora, and exclaiming, “Must you torment me so? Isn’t bad enough that everyone at the bowling alley had to see you frolicking around with that <em>man</em>?”</p>
<p>“You saw that, huh?” Aurora chuckled as she moved to lay down next to her. It had been awhile since they’d shared a bed. Back in the early days of their traveling, they’d end up having to sleep together either out of necessity, or because they were both plagued with nightmares of that night. Their first few months looked a lot like this--Aurora and Marisol waking up next to each other, joking and talking about their days.</p>
<p>“Everyone saw that.” Marisol rolled her eyes, playfully playing the role of the embarrassed child. Though if she was being honest, she had been a little embarrassed when the whole pack stood watching Ashely shamelessly flirt and make out with Peter. “You also reeked of sex, by the way. I’m sure Scott and his friends could smell it too.”</p>
<p>“Ah, you kids! What’s it to you if I mess around with a stranger here and there?” Aurora flicked Marisol on the forehead. Marisol smacked her hand, getting it away from her face as Aurora kept trying to flick other parts of her face, aiming mostly for her nose and ears. Finally Aurora calmed down, grabbing Marisol’s hand and taking it in hers. She stayed quiet for a while, looking down at their intertwined fingers.</p>
<p>“Do you remember Tampa?” Aurora asked, softly.</p>
<p>They hadn’t talked about Tampa in over a year. Marisol looked up at Aurora who was still looking down at their hands, and noticed that this was the first time since they’d left Florida that Aurora didn’t seem like she was going to cry talking about it. Instead of her usual pained expression and tear filled eyes, there was a small, tender smile on her face.</p>
<p>“I still can’t believe they managed to get us to try alligator…” Marisol squirmed as she remembered the smell and texture of the bbq’d meat. “And we actually liked it!”</p>
<p>“It was tasty!!!” Aurora argued, laughing at the shock they had felt when they had been told they were eating caiman. <em>What’s caiman?</em> Aurora had asked when she turned and saw the look of disgust on Marisol’s face, spitting out the meat into the nearest napkin she could find. It didn’t take long before the both of them were in a fit of laughter, reminiscing about their time in Florida and all the shenanigans they had gotten up to. Eventually, giddiness grew until all they had to do was look at each other and they’d burst into a loud and rambunctious laughter. They talked about the weekend at Disneyworld, the awful humidity made them sweat just by standing outside, the late night bonfires at the beach trying to learn how to salsa dance and falling over from how bad they were when they started. On and on the stories went until the laughter had died down and the two of them lay under the sheets, turned to their sides and laying face to face, whispering to each other as if someone would hear them.</p>
<p>“Aurora...” Marisol paused, unsure if she should question why she brought Tampa up and wondering if maybe now was the time to tell her what Malia and the others had told her about Peter.</p>
<p>“I think...I think that we could have that again...here.” Aurora said quietly, as if reading what was going through Marisol’s mind. She pulled the sheet over her head and turned so that she was on her back, once again looking up at the ceiling. She sighed. “This is the first time...in a long time...that I think I feel...happy?” Marisol looked up at her, her face still partially covered by the sheet, and felt a sudden pang of guilt. Maybe she should keep the news about Peter to herself for now? Or would it be worse to let her feel happiness with someone who wasn’t going to be good for her--or anyone for that matter? She pushed the covers off and rolled off the bed, going to her closet and pulling on a sweater.</p>
<p>“Well, if we are going to <em>try</em> to be happy here. We might as well start sticking to our weekend rituals.” She slipped on her running shoes, then picked up a throw pillow from one of the chairs in the room, throwing it at Aurora.</p>
<p>Aurora groaned, “Ugh do we <em>have</em> to?”</p>
<p>“Come on! You woke me up this early, so this is all on you!” Marisol left the room, rushing down the stairs to the living room to start her warm up. Aurora followed behind, pulling on her shoes as she sauntered down the stairs, making a show of how much she was not looking forward to their Sunday jog. In reality though, Aurora was looking forward to settling into their old routines. They’d have very little stability, so coming up with a few constant activities always made them feel like something was still holding them down--holding them together.</p>
<p>“Alright, but after this, you’re making me breakfast!” Aurora pouted as she started her stretches.</p>
<p>“Deal.” Marisol yelled back at her as she headed out the door.</p>
<p>
  <b>------------------------</b>
</p>
<p>By the time Aurora and Marisol were finally slowing down, the sun had fully risen and various sounds of the morning were coming alive. Marisol lifted her arms over her head, breathing heavily as they both came to a casual stroll, taking in the scenery around them.</p>
<p>“You know, this is a pretty nice trail you found.” Aurora noted appreciatively.</p>
<p>“Yeah! I jogged it the other night...after we had that argument.” Marisol took a long drink from her water bottle, heading over to the edge of a cliff that oversaw the whole city. “It looks so different at night, but it’s still beautiful.”</p>
<p>Aurora merely hummed in agreement, basking the warmth of the sun and the cool breeze that flew by. Every city they’d travelled to had been full of beauty, each in it’s different way, but still full of soft wonders that made her appreciate their stay. Beacon Hills was no different in that aspect, the city was small but embedded within a large and luscious forest that made the town smell fresh and clean. But here, Aurora thought, here it felt like home. Or like, it could be home--if they wanted it to. If Marisol wanted it to.</p>
<p>“What are you thinking?” Marisol interrupted her thoughts, watching her pensively, and concerned and caring look on her face.</p>
<p>“Just…about how much this place feels like home.” Aurora sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. “Don’t you think?”</p>
<p>Marisol didn’t respond, instead turning her gaze toward the city below, running her eyes over the scene below them. She hadn’t thought of home in a while. Home didn’t feel like home anymore. It felt foreign, awkward--strange. After they had left, she found it hard to miss home and now more than ever, she was trying to forget it. Home was where her family was, and now her family was Aurora and Emy. As for her parents, she carried them with her wherever she went, so home was where they were to. And right now, all of them were here, in the middle of the forest, on a cool, sunny morning in Beacon Hills.</p>
<p>“Do you think you feel happy because you see a future in this town?” Marisol asked, curious to know what Aurora was really feeling, and whether she liked the city itself, or if she was more caught up with someone in it. She had kept herself from telling Aurora earlier because she had seemed so blissful that morning after her night out, but now that she was talking about staying here indefinitely, maybe she had to know about Peter.</p>
<p>“Perhaps.” Aurora thought about what she could say. Did she really see a future for the two of them, or was she just more hopeful for one here? What was really different about Beacon Hills that the other places hadn’t seemed good enough?</p>
<p>“A future like...with us...or with someone else?” Marisol asked, fearing the answer she would get, but thinking that she knew Aurora better than to believe she’d get too involved with a man she hardly knew.</p>
<p>“Someone else?” Aurora looked at her, confused. “Do you mean Peter? The guy from last night?”</p>
<p>Marisol merely nodded.</p>
<p>“Oh nah!” Aurora let out a laugh, “He’s just a pretty boy piece of ass really.”</p>
<p>Marisol laughed at this, feeling relieved that Aurora wasn’t too interested in having a relationship with him. “Okay okay! Sorry, I figured I’d ask since you seemed so excited before the date last night.”</p>
<p>“Well yeah I was excited. Do you know how long it’d been since I’d gotten laid?”</p>
<p>“Oh my god.” Marisol rolled her eyes and shook her head.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry though,” Aurora chuckled. “To be honest, he’s a bit uptight and little bougie for my taste.”</p>
<p>Marisol let out a loud laugh, “You’re gonna criticize someone for being too bougie? Really?! You?!”</p>
<p>Aurora feigned insult, donning a hurt expression, “Oh come on! The only thing I’m bougie about is food. Either way, I’m saying I’m not that into him. ”</p>
<p>“Thank god!” Marisol sighed dramatically. “‘Cause I gotta be real, I was NOT feeling him.”</p>
<p>“What?! Why not?” Aurora asked, pretending to be appalled.</p>
<p>“I just think you could do better….plus...I kinda found out he’s Malia’s Dad. So I’m not really sure how we should feel about that.”</p>
<p>“Oh well shit...that explains the whole daddy thing...Ah well, you’re probably right and I can do better, but <em>I</em> was definitely feeling him...if you catch my drift.” Aurora wiggled her eyebrows at Marisol and elbowed her playfully in the ribs.</p>
<p>“Oh God,” Marisol rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I catch your drift. I think the whole town can catch your drift.”</p>
<p>She stood up and began walking away from Aurora, picking up her pace as she headed back toward the trail they were jogging on. Aurora followed her, pleased that she’d managed to disgust her friend for the third time today. As she got closer to Marisol, she started to jog, steadily going faster until she broke out into a full on sprint, zooming past Marisol who was jogging at her usual pace. She turned around, looking at her younger friend and stuck her tongue out before turning back and yelling, “Last one homes has to buy the other breakfast!!!”</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s on…” Marisol huffed, as she started to run faster, gaining speed as she caught up to Aurora. It had been a while since they’d had a race like this--running fast and free without a care in the world. They sped past the trees and rocks, jumping over logs and broken branches, smiles plastered on their faces as they huffed their way home, each one trying to outrun the other. They ran with unnatural speed, something Marisol was always grateful for, especially on the days she used jogging as a release from all the trouble they encountered. She picked up her speed, using all the energy she had left to get a leg up on Aurora who was starting to slow down--if only just a little. The cement road was only a few meters ahead and Aurora could almost taste that sweet victory, which tasted a lot like pancakes, bacon, and fresh cut fruit. She could almost feel the hard cement under her feet as the two made their way out of the forest and back into their new neighborhood, but just as she was about to reach the end, Marisol passed her up, almost leaping onto the pavement in front of them.</p>
<p>“Yeeeesss!!!” Marisol let out a victory laugh before flopping down on the hard blacktop, arms and legs spread out like a starfish. Aurora slowed to a stop and passed Marisol, turning around to watch as her friend was breathlessly listing out the types of breakfast foods she liked to eat.</p>
<p>“Pancakes and waffles and bacon and fruit and eggs and french toast and huevos rancheros and chilaquiles and huevos divorciados and…” The list went on and on and Aurora just shook her head as she took a seat next to Marisol.</p>
<p>“You know, you have an unfair advantage.”</p>
<p>“Is that unfair advantage called being better than you?” Marisol remarked with a sassy smirk on her face, always amused at pushing Aurora’s buttons.</p>
<p>“Pfff,” Aurora scoffed. “Younger than me? Yes. But better than me? Definitely not. Plus let’s not forget you did cross country since middle school.”</p>
<p>“Eh, I call that extra experience.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well I call that cheating!” Aurora pouted feeling that her victory had been stolen under her.</p>
<p>“Hmm call it what you like, you still gotta buy me breakfast.”</p>
<p>“All right you butthead. Let’s go get breakfast.” Aurora stood, turning to look expectantly at Marisol who still lay sprawled out on the floor.</p>
<p>“....I can’t get up.”</p>
<p>Their laughter rang out and echoed through the forest and down the street as Aurora attempted to pry Marisol off the concrete. Meanwhile Marisol made a show of it, going limp and making Aurora pull at her legs and her arms, dragging her down the street and onto the sidewalk so they wouldn’t get run over.</p>
<p>Unbeknownst to them, they were being watched from afar. A pair of familiar brown eyes stared at them from behind a tree, which Stiles had jumped behind after hearing the thumping sound of someone running toward him. What he hadn’t expected was to see Marisol and her cousin running at full (and nearly impossible) speed through the forest trail. He’d been right. He’d known something was off about her and now here was his proof--proof he had seen with his own two eyes. They had to be supernatural--that was the only answer. No other human was that fast, and yeah maybe he was worse than most at running, but the only people he’d seen run that fast and that hard were his more than just ordinary werewolf friends.</p>
<p>He thought back to how Marisol had recognized him in the pitch black of the other night, how she kept giving vague answers about her past and the death of her parents, of how her cousin had gone on a date with <em>Peter</em> of all people, which now seemed less and less like a coincidence. He thought about last night, and how hurt and shy she’d seemed and how that was all a ploy to get him to open up to her--to trust her the way he had trusted Theo. Theo, who he’d had a bad feeling about, a feeling he’d ignored. But not this time. This time there was no ignoring it. He’d known Marisol was hiding something and he’d been right. And why would she hide something like this if she didn’t have bad intentions? Why lie to them? To him?</p>
<p>Stiles turned back to head toward his house, wondering just how he was going to bring this up to Scott. Scott who had already fallen into Marisol’s trap--who already saw her as this sweet, innocent, pretty girl who needed friends. Scott who was so easily fooled because he had a good heart. Maybe he wouldn’t tell Scott. Not right away anyway. No, first he had to be sure. But there was no way he was letting down his guard again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter Nineteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Honestly, just an excuse for some lovely smut with a little character development.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tw for some sexy fun times ahead.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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<p>Aurora was unsure of how to respond to the picture she had received in response to a selfie of herself having a fun bubble bath. She hadn’t even meant to send it to him, and there certainly wasn’t anything suggestive about her sitting there with a hat and beard made out of bubbles, giving out a peace sign. But that sure didn’t stop him from sending back one that was.</p>
<p>He seemed to have just gotten out of the shower, and he stood in front of the mirror, the steam wiped away so that he could be clearly seen. It definitely caught her attention and she found herself wanting to chase the water droplets that ran down and disappeared below the towel hanging dangerously low on his hips.</p>
<p>She hesitated, keeping herself from responding immediately and thinking back to Marisol and how she’d expressed her dislike of him the other day. She hadn’t given her a real reason why, but nonetheless, Aurora felt doubt creeping into her head. <em>Had Marisol learned something about Peter from Scott and his friends? Surely she would have told me if she had, right?</em> Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard as she debated whether or not to respond, deciding finally that there couldn’t be too much harm to it before typing out a few winky face emojis hitting send.</p>
<p>Placing the phone down, she turned her attention back to herself, running her hands along her skin, and enjoying the way the mint oils in her scrub left her skin soft and tingly. But she could not help the way the tingle made her body feel, feeding into her growing arousal, as her thoughts wandered back to the photo of Peter. She took a few deep breaths to try and calm down, reminding herself that this was supposed to be nothing but a relaxing bath, but her body was already wound up. Sinking further down into the warm water, she began massaging her breast, letting her imagination draw her into a daydream. With each brush and stroke, she felt herself falling deeper and deeper into bliss, letting one hand wander across her stomach and down between her legs, while the other worked on her nipples, tweaking and pulling softly. There was a sudden vibration to her left as her phone went off, which she could only assume was a response from Peter. She paused momentarily before deciding to ignore the burst of short vibrations and consequently any messages she may have been receiving, opting instead to continue rubbing slow circles with increasing pressure. Unfortunately for her, the next little buzz brought Peter back to the forefront of her mind and he became the person she imagined was touching her, recalling the feel of his hands and lips as they moved over her skin. She had hoped to take care of herself like she had many times before, but knowing there was another person who was happy to do the work for her, made the temptation hard to pass up.</p>
<p>By now she had stopped and her hands now laid on her stomach as she thought about how to continue from here. She did have the day and the house to herself, and Marisol would be gone most of the day if she recalled correctly. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if she responded to all those thirsty texts. She picked her phone up, ignored Peter's texts and decided instead to send a quick question to Marisol--she needed confirmation after all.</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Aurora: You were hanging with someone after school right?<br/>Marisol: yeah, I’m studying with Kira. For why?<br/>Aurora: What time do you think you’ll be home?<br/>Marisol: I should be home for dinner.<br/>Marisol: Unless...you're asking for another reason?!?<br/>Aurora: I am totally asking because of dinner...<br/>Marisol: Oh.</p>
</blockquote><p>Aurora watched as the typing bubble vanished and reappeared a few times before all she got was a ‘let me know when I can come home’. Aurora wanted to ask her what was up, she had the suspicion that Marisol was holding back and it bothered her, but she wasn’t sure if she should push the subject. She replied with a dumb meme of Kermit the frog surrounded by hearts and checked to see what Peter sent.</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Peter: wyd?<br/>Peter: wanna come over tonight?<br/>Peter: Aurora?<br/>Aurora: Patience is a virtue.</p>
</blockquote><p>She snickered imagining his face when he read her message, throwing the same words he had told her many times during their last encounter, back in his face. Three little dots popped up, but she quickly typed out an excuse to cut off whatever snarky comeback he undoubtedly had.</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Aurora: It’s a school night, I really shouldn’t<br/>Peter: It’s not like you have school in the morning. We can have a sleepover ;)<br/>Aurora: Oh yeah? What’s gonna happen at this sleepover? Pillow fights and waffles?<br/>Peter: I’ll fix you whatever you want in the morning if you stay<br/>Aurora: Tempting<br/>Aurora: Why don’t you come over here?<br/>Peter: I can be there in 15, yes?</p>
</blockquote><p>Making a quick mental list of everything she’d need to gather before he arrived, Aurora quickly finished up her bath and went about searching for items to make their little rendezvous more interesting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter had his own idea on how the afternoon would go and was firm in his belief that he had the upper hand, given how things had gone the last time him and Aurora had met. Which is exactly why he now found himself speechless as he currently laid spread out and completely exposed on Aurora’s bed. The little seductress had distracted him with kisses and whispered promises of what she wanted to do with him, by the time he realized what she was aiming at, it was too little too late. His hands had been cuffed into leather restraints--well made and stronger than your run of the mill silk scarves and far more comfortable than handcuffs. He pulled at them, testing their strength and to his dismay, found that without the use of his werewolf strength, he wouldn’t be able to weasel his way out of his current position.</p>
<p>“Don’t you dare try to break free, I’ll be <em>quite</em> upset with you if you do.”</p>
<p>He lifted his head and looked down, catching the playful eyes of Aurora who maintained eye contact as she kissed her way down his stomach. Placing a few more kisses on his thighs, she traced her fingertips along his hips, slowly reaching out to grasp him, eliciting a small, albeit satisfying gasp from Peter. She smiled when she ran her tongue along the underside of his shaft, causing his hips to buck and a louder moan to leave his lips. It was salacious, her smile, full of promised pleasure and torture. It was when she took him into her mouth that Peter decided that perhaps it would be okay to surrender for a moment--to lose himself to the complete control of another.</p>
<p>Aurora enjoyed giving him a taste of pleasure, feeling the muscles under her hands tense whenever he started to get close. She wasn’t as cruel as he had been to her, never forcing him to cool down completely before she began again, waiting for the right moment to execute the next step in her plan. She looked at him, writhing in pleasure beneath her and thought back to all the times Peter had joked about her needing to learn some patience, laughing to herself and relishing in the irony of their switched roles. She leaned down once again, opening her mouth and taking as much of him as she could, loving the small gasps that escaped him whenever she sucked harder. She placed her hands firmly on his thighs, holding him down while giving herself some stability as she continued to draw out Peter’s moans, each one louder and more obscene than the last. She finally let go of him with a pop, Peter groaning loudly at the sudden loss--he had been close and she knew now was her moment.</p>
<p>As he lay there panting heavily and trying to regain some semblance of composure, Aurora reached down to the corners of her bed where she had hid other cuffs with the bedsheet. With just a few swift movements, she had secured his ankles, leaving him utterly helpless to her most indecent desires. She knew off course that with the same swift movements, he could easily break out of them, but he didn’t know that she knew, and she was about to test his patience. It was finally time for her much earned and desired payback.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aurora could feel herself getting close as she moved her hips in a slow rotation, putting her hands on his chest and steadying herself as she picked up the pace, using him to get closer to her second orgasm. She arched her back and moved her hips back, trying to get the extra friction against her clit necessary for her to finish.</p>
<p>“Look at me.” Peter asked, begging of her. Aurora’s head was thrown back looking at the ceiling as she rode him, ignoring his request and thus prompting him to make it again, this time, with more urgency. “Look at me.”</p>
<p>She found herself unable to deny him and re-positioned herself, one hand holding her steady while her other went between them, adding more pressure to her clit as she rubbed frantically and erratically, all it took was a few swipes and she was gone. With him still inside of her, she let herself fall forward on top of Peter, dropping her head to his shoulder and taking a moment to catch her breath. She was sweaty and had no longer had any energy left as she reached up and slowly undid the cuffs holding his hands, trying to brace herself for what was to come.</p>
<p>Peter wasted no time in grabbing her hips and positioning her to meet his violent thrusts. She had teased him twice more before he’d even had the chance to come, all the while playing with herself and getting herself off--chuckling between her moans when she sunk down upon him, eliciting his most vulgar curses as she took him all in. He had to admit he’d loved watching her build her orgasm up while she rode him--an image he would never forget--but now that he was freed, he was only concerned with finally getting his. Wrapping his arms around Aurora’s waist, he sat up and supported her as he leaned her back, just far enough to reach for one of the cuffs around his ankles--all the while continuing to thrust into her, and leaving a trail of sloppy kisses from her neck to her right breast. Once undone he flipped them around, holding himself over her as they both let out a string of curses and loud moans--within moments, he’d found his completion.</p>
<p>He crumbled on top of Aurora, burrowing his face in her neck and trying to regulate his breathing, inhaling her scent as he did--a mixture of sweat, sex, and a hint of roses. Aurora winced as Peter propped himself up from on top of her and removed himself--still hypersensitive, despite his being as gentle as possible. He laid on his back next to her, and for a few minutes the only thing that could be heard was the sound of their heavy breaths, as they tried to regain their energy.</p>
<p>“I thought you were going to break my restraints a few times there.” Aurora finally broke the silence rolling to her side to look at him, and brushing away the strands of hair that clung to her face.</p>
<p>He turned his head and gave a bashful, apologetic look, “I worried a bit that I might get carried away there...You really do have quite the mouth on you.”</p>
<p>She beamed, quite proud of the compliment, “Thank you.”</p>
<p>He reached out and pulled her close, maneuvering his arm under her head and turning her to face the other way. He pulled her close and nuzzled her hair, “You’re going to fall asleep again, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>Aurora gave a small nod and mumbled something about “just a short nap” before her breathing slowed and evened out. Peter took a moment to appreciate her--the scent of flowers that lingered in her hair, the softness of her skin under his, the quiet snores that escaped her every now and then. The woman that now lay sleeping in his arms was a stark contrast to the one who had just been riding him a few minutes ago. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say they were to complete different people. But he did know better, and watching her now, he began to doubt the plans he’d had for leaving Beacon Hills, began to doubt his intentions of leaving and never looking back, of never settling down. Was it possible that he’d finally found someone that made him…<em>feel</em> something?</p>
<p>“Shit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, let me ask you a question.” Peter turned on his back and looked up the ceiling, wondering if this was really a conversation he wanted to delve into, and if he was ready to be so exposed with a complete stranger (the irony of him lying fully naked on her bed not lost on him).</p>
<p>“Hmm?” Aurora hummed, her eyes still closed from the quick nap she had taken. She had forgotten how much energy it took to completely dominate another person, especially in bed.</p>
<p>“You and your cousin...you seem...well, close.” Peter’s voice was slowly becoming more and more pitchy, heightened by his discomfort at talking about such intimate topics.</p>
<p>“Uh...yes, we are.” Ashley turned to face him, turning on her side and propping herself up with her elbow, resting her head on her hand. “What’s this about?”</p>
<p>Peter made a noncommittal noise and waved off her question, but based on the look she gave him, he had no doubt she knew exactly why he was asking. Choosing to ignore her questioning (and somewhat judgemental) glare, he leaned over to give Aurora a swift peck on the lips and sat up, stretching his arms and neck before getting up from the bed.</p>
<p>Aurora wanted to reprimand him for his purposeful distractions, but instead joined him in sitting up and stretching, realizing that her muscles were much more sore than she expected them to be. She watched curiously as Peter got up and disappeared into the bathroom, and listened as he went about opening cabinets and drawers until he found whatever it was he was looking for. The squeak of the faucet being turned on and off was heard, and shortly after Peter walked back into the room with a damp washcloth in his hands. Aurora watched him as he quietly kneeled next to her on the bed, taking the washcloth and beginning to wipe away the sweat from her skin. Wordlessly caressing her tense muscles, Peter took extra care to clean away any fluids that had leaked out, being careful not to aggravate the tender area.</p>
<p>Aurora lifted herself up on her elbows, watching him as he continued to quietly clean and take care of her, and had it not been for her exhaustion and sensitivity, she might have acted upon the thoughts building in her head. Once he was finished, she quietly thanked him and gave a soft smile when he placed a few kisses along her hip before he went back to the bathroom to finish cleaning himself off. She watched as he left and found there was a flutter in her heart as she realized she couldn’t remember the last time she had been so tenderly taken care of. When she’d messaged him about a booty call, she hadn’t imagined that Peter could ever be such a gentle lover, especially not after the way their previous encounters (including this one) had gone.</p>
<p>When he came back out Peter found Aurora up and about, stripping the bed down and gathering the sheets to take to the wash. She had put on a robe and placed his clothes on the edge of the bed for him before leaving him to get dressed, but not before sending him a flirty wink over her shoulder as she left with an armful of laundry.</p>
<p>Aurora was in the kitchen when Peter came down, fiddling with the coffee pot as he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle and placing a kiss on her shoulder.</p>
<p>She gave a distracted hum in response, lost in thought about the question he had never asked. She wondered where to begin, or even if she should. She wanted to help without coming off as a pretentious know it all and risk alienating him, but she also wanted to give him some supportive advice.</p>
<p>“Marisol and I were already close when I became her guardian.” She started. Hesitating for a few seconds before continuing. “We already had an established relationship and understanding of each other, so that made our bond easy to strengthen. Really, the hardest part was learning what rules to lay down and how to enforce them--knowing when and how to deal out punishment when they weren’t followed. Though if I’m being honest, Marisol hasn’t really ever been one to break rules or push boundaries.”</p>
<p>Aurora paused once again, looking over to Peter and trying to gauge his reaction.</p>
<p>“Even before I became her guardian, I had been someone she could run to and without having to worry about being judged.” She let out a small huff of laughter as she remembered the time Marisol had come running to her, afraid to go home and give her parents her progress report, showing she’d received a B- in one of her classes.</p>
<p>Peter listened, giving her his full attention, and after taking the offered cup of coffee, he leaned against the counter, nodding for her to continue.</p>
<p>“To be a parent, you need to commit. It’s about showing up whenever they call, even when it’s the last thing you want to do--not just when it’s convenient for you. Their safety and happiness becomes your number one priority.” She paused, unsure of how he would take her next comment and worrying that she would be giving too much away, “They need love and attention, and not the kind that can be bought.”</p>
<p>Peter felt the sting from her comments. He wondered if perhaps Aurora’s commentary was based on her own upbringing, more than a well placed guess on his own interactions with Malia. Regardless of where her words were coming from, the reality of his apathy was hitting him head on, and he could feel the unfamiliar feeling of guilt creeping up on him. True, he could continue to blame Talia for taking his memory away, for keeping his daughter a secret, but it wasn’t as if he’d truly made an effort to be a part of Malia’s life since he’d found out about her--at least not the right kind of effort.</p>
<p>He glanced down at Aurora to see her staring out, lost in thought, much in the same way he had just been. Placing his mug down he carefully reached for her hands, taking the mug she held and placing it down as well, before tilting her chin up so she was facing him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, and feeling both glad and relieved when she returned his embrace wholeheartedly.</p>
<p>“For what it’s worth, I think you are an inspiring example of parenthood.” He enjoyed the way she looked at him, as if he was her first choice, and not just someone’s last resort--it was intoxicating. “And as a bonus, I don’t think I’ve ever met a mom who could do the things you do.”</p>
<p>His cheeky comment had the desired effect, making Aurora throw her head back laugh loudly, “Thank you, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to kick you out now. Marisol will be home soon and she doesn’t exactly—approve of you.”</p>
<p><em>Why does that not surprise me?</em> Peter huffed and barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He wondered how much Marisol learned from Scott and his pack, and how much she told Aurora, though he wondered if he’d even be here if she’d learned about his past. “Do I want to know why?”</p>
<p>Aurora bit her lip, realizing she didn’t even really know herself and made a mental note to have a conversation with Marisol later, “I’m sure it’s just her being overly protective.”</p>
<p>“Does that mean that should I ask if you are free Friday night, you’d accept?” He asked.</p>
<p>“Yes, I am free and yes, I’d love to. Seven again?” her eyes lit up with mischief and excitement to see him again. <em>Maybe this time we’ll actually make it to dinner</em>.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter Twenty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marisol comes home to find Aurora indeed had a visitor earlier, one she isn't happy about. She discusses her fears and concerns for Aurora if she decides to continue seeing Peter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>It took a while longer than Aurora had planned for Peter to leave. Each time they started to say goodbye, it led to a short but sweet make out session and it was another twenty minutes before Aurora was waving goodbye at him as he drove off. She turned back into the house, her mind already going over what she would wear for their date on Friday.</p>
<p>Aurora got around cleaning up her room, trying her best to help cover up the smell and erase any evidence that there had been a man in her room, or more specifically a man named Peter. A healthy dose of body spray on the mattress, an open window, and a few candles later, Aurora stood in her room with her hands on her hips, satisfied that the scent was disguised. She followed the sound of her phone downstairs, and opened it up to find several missed messages from Marisol asking if it was safe to come home yet and hoping that dinner would be ready soon.</p>
<p><em>Oh shit, dinner</em>. Aurora cursed herself for forgetting to put anything together as she opened the fridge, checking to see exactly what they had, and what she could make in the next few minutes. After finding enough for a few different choices, she shot Marisol a quick text, hoping to catch her before she was already on her way home.</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Aurora: Flautas o fajitas?<br/>Aurora: Either way can you pick up some tortillas on your way home?<br/>Marisol: Flautas.<br/>Marisol: Wait, no. Fajitas are faster.<br/>Marisol: Wait, how are we out of tortillas???<br/>Aurora: ...midnight quesadillas<br/>Marisol: Ah. Right. Anything else?</p>
</blockquote><p>Aurora answered no and quickly got started on cleaning and cutting the chicken, leaving it to marinade while she checked on the laundry. After deciding they smelled fresh enough, she shoved the sheets into the dryer, and made her way back into the kitchen, turning on some music as she got started on cooking.</p>
<p>She went about prepping the veggies and found herself swaying to the music, her hips moving on their own, and her feet taking small steps side to side. She let her mind wander back to the days when as soon as she started dancing a pair of hands would shortly find their way to her hips--a body behind her own, moving slowly along with her, a soft voice humming along to a song in her ear. <em>Fermin</em>. She’d try to ignore him as much as she could before the temptation became too great and she would abandon her cooking to dance with him, laughing as he would twirl her around before pulling her close for some sweet and sensual grinding.</p>
<p>She’d been honest when she’d told Marisol that she felt happy again--or could at least feel happiness within reach. But every now and then, in moments like this, she was reminded of him. Of the only person she’d ever really loved, and how she had foolishly let him go. Choosing to ignore the sadness creeping in, Aurora let her mind drift back to the days when the two of them would sway together to the sounds of some cha cha cha orchestra in the background, the smell of her cooking swirling around them. She wondered if she’d ever feel the same way again. And then she wondered if Peter was the type to dance in the kitchen--did he even know what cha cha cha was?</p>
<p>Her thoughts abruptly stopped when she felt a nick against her hand and looked down to find herself heavily bleeding from her thumb, “Oh fucking hell.”</p>
<p>Marisol sat in her car for a few minutes, trying not to psych herself out and going over her talking points for her confrontation with Aurora about Peter, having no doubt he’d been the reason why Aurora had requested time alone. She had practiced what she would say and how to bring up the subject, provided Aurora didn’t do so first herself, but she still felt nervous about delivering the news about Peter.</p>
<p>After their jog on Sunday, she’d figured Aurora wasn’t going to see him again, and yet she was sure he’d been in their house earlier today. Taking a deep breath, Marisol stepped out of her car, groceries in hand, and walked through the front door. She was immediately overtaken by the strong scent of fresh blood, and rushed to the kitchen, finding Aurora clutching her hand and cursing up a storm as she tried to search for something to wrap around her finger.</p>
<p>“What happened?!” Marisol yelled after her, opening the one of the drawers and pulling out some bandaids.</p>
<p>“I cut my finger…” Aurora walked over to Marisol who was already standing next to the sink, running water to clean her wound.</p>
<p>“Okay...why isn’t it healing? Is it deep? Let me see.” Marisol reached for her hand, but Aurora pulled away, pouting like a child not wanting to show her wound.</p>
<p>“No! You’ll laugh at me.”</p>
<p>“I promise I won’t.” Marisol rolled her eyes before taking Aurora’s now outstretched hand and scanning it for any major injury. Finding none, she chose to remain silent instead of teasing Aurora for being unable to heal from what was for them, essentially a papercut. She suddenly remembered what she was supposed to be discussing with Aurora, and got lost once again in her thoughts about this Peter situation. She quietly bandaged Aurora’s finger, adding some neosporin for good measure, before returning her hand to her and turning to start setting the table.</p>
<p>It didn’t slip past Aurora that Marisol had suddenly shut down, and she wondered if the silence was directed at her or if something had happened at school.</p>
<p>“Hey Mari…” Aurora asked softly, pausing the music and turning to look at her. “Are you okay? What’s the matter?”</p>
<p>Marisol wondered if she should answer honestly, or try to relieve the growing tension by pretending things were okay and dealing with the Peter thing later. Deciding on the former, she finally spoke out, “He was here, wasn’t he? Peter?”</p>
<p>Aurora squinted at her and remained silent, trying to think of ways to get out of this small hole she’d dug for herself.</p>
<p>“I know he was, I can smell his cheap cologne.”</p>
<p>“Damn.” Aurora cursed. “I thought I’d done a good job at covering all that up.”</p>
<p>Marisol gave her a pointed glare before setting down the utensils she held in her hand and facing Aurora.</p>
<p>“Okay okay. I’m sorry.” Aurora held her hands up in defeat. “He was indeed here…”</p>
<p>Marisol pulled out one of the dining table chairs and sat down, “I thought you weren’t going to see him again...”</p>
<p>Aurora gave her a small shrug and went back to throwing the veggies into a pan to saute them, feeling a small sense of guilt start to creep up on her. “I wasn’t...but I was soaking in the bathtub and one thing led to another, and the next thing I know he’s answering my booty call...then we had a little fun...and you know what? His cologne isn’t <em>that</em> cheap!”</p>
<p>“But you’re not going to see him anymore <em>now</em>...right?” Marisol asked hopefully, ignoring Aurora’s attempt to make light of the situation. But based on the way Aurora’s shoulders tensed up, she had a feeling that not seeing Peter was out of the question.</p>
<p>“Actually... I’m going to go out with him again on Friday.”</p>
<p>“Ro…” Marisol took a deep breath to calm herself, unable to believe what she was hearing. “I’d really rather you didn’t...I mean, a booty call is one thing, but a date--a <em>second</em> date--that implies feelings...Are you starting to like him?”</p>
<p>“Would that be so bad?” Aurora turned the heat down on the stove, placing her hands on the counter and keeping her back turned toward Marisol.</p>
<p>“Uh, yeah, actually it would!” Marisol exclaimed, standing up from her chair with an exasperated sigh.</p>
<p>“What? Why?!” Aurora whipped around to face her, putting down the wooden spoon in her hand and moving next to her at the table, before asking in all earnest, “What haven’t you told me, Solita?”</p>
<p>Marisol winced at the use of Aurora’s pet name for her--a nickname her parents had donned on her when she was just a child. It didn’t make any sense, but it had stuck and hearing Aurora use it right now, Marisol knew she was concerned. She didn’t know how to answer, because in truth, she didn’t even have a real reason, just the word of her friends to go on. “Look, truthfully, I don’t know any details, but everyone was insistent that he was someone we should stay away from.”</p>
<p>Aurora stayed silent, waiting for Marisol to continue.</p>
<p>“And the way Malia called him her dad...like he’s not a good one. And I don’t mean ‘not a good one’ as in just a sleazy, deadbeat beat dad...I mean ‘not a good one’ as in I think he is a legitimate <em>bad guy</em>.”</p>
<p>Aurora leaned back in her chair and watched as Marisol began picking at the polish on her nails, a nervous habit she’d had since she was younger. She could tell by the way Marisol avoided her gaze, that the girl had felt conflicted about telling her, and thus was genuinely concerned about Peter. Besides, why would Marisol lie to her about something like this? She wouldn’t. Which meant that this was more than just a dislike for Peter, and that made the whole situation a lot more serious.</p>
<p>She began to consider the different options she had for breaking it off with Peter. She could call him now and say she couldn’t make it for their date on Friday, but then he’d just try to reschedule. The idea of ghosting never sat well with her, and she doubted she’d actually be able to stick with it--not if the sex was going to be as good as it had been. Her best bet would be to go through with the date, then break it off after. It would allow for a clean break and give her some sort of closure, which she knew she wouldn’t get if she didn’t confront him in person.</p>
<p>Both Aurora and Marisol were lost in their own thoughts that neither had noticed when the pan on the stove had started to smoke, the veggies within it all but burnt to a crisp. Marisol jumped up and rushed over, cursing when she burnt herself by pulling the pan off the stove. Aurora was quick to turn on the faucet and ran to crack open a window before the fire alarm had time to start howling. Marisol threw the pan into the sink and let the cold water run over it, leaning against the counter and starting the steam rising from the hot pan. Aurora walked over to her, watching her thoughtfully.</p>
<p>“Any ideas for how we should move forward?” Aurora asked her.</p>
<p>“I want to say you text him and dump his ass right now, but that’s probably not the best way to deal with the situation. Especially if he is as dangerous as Scott and rest suggested.”</p>
<p>Aurora nodded and the two started to salvage what was left of their dinner in silence. Aurora turned back to the music and hit play, the music suddenly filling the room and infecting them both until they started dancing around, swaying their hips and tapping their feet to the beat. Their earlier confrontations and the ones that lay ahead were forgotten momentarily as they smiled and laughed with each other, Aurora grabbing Marisol to spin her around, while Marisol let out a surprised laugh.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you go and pick a movie to watch?” Aurora stopped from spinning Marisol around the kitchen, still holding onto the others’ hand.</p>
<p>“Really?</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Aurora nodded. “I think we can both agree that dinner is kinda ruined. We can eat some popcorn and even make some hot chocolate? How does that sound?”</p>
<p>“Perfect.” Marisol smiled as she ran to go find something for the two of them to watch.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter Twenty One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>On his way to his pack conference to discuss the recent headlines claiming the death of the Armendariz family, Tomas can't shake the feeling he's being followed, but by who? And why?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The last time we've seen Tomas, he and his cousin Canelo was Chapter Twelve, they had just seen the headline: Prestigious Armendariz Family Found Killed In Home. </p>
<p>Thank you to everyone who has read so far! Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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<p>Tomas lay on his bed, his earbuds in and arms behind his head as he bobbed along to the music pouding in his ears. It was an hour before the pack meeting and he felt the need to unwind, knowing how things were going to go once he stepped foot in the conference hall. He’d always thought it was weird that they even needed a conference hall. Why couldn’t they just have a giant carne asada where everyone just talked about issues over some tacos and tecate? Not that he could even drink Tecate--alcohol may not affect werewolves, but Carmen was a stickler for the rules, and Tomas was still underage.</p>
<p>It had been two weeks since the news about the Armedariz family had reached them, and after much speculation amongst the pack, Carmen and the elders had finally agreed to host an official meeting about it. At first, the pack had been at odds about whether the news meant they had to worry--many arguing that the Armendariz were known for getting into deep water with the wrong people. But as the days went by and word got around and chismes starting to spread, more and more were becoming convinced that this was not merely a rivalry gone wrong. Tomas had stayed silent about the whole ordeal, waiting to hear from the Elders and their Alpha before voicing his opinion on the manner, though he had some idea of what could have possibly happened.</p>
<p>It wasn’t news to anyone that the Texas family packs had been some of the most powerful, and amongst them was the Armendariz family--one of the oldest and purest wolf bloodlines to exist in the states. Despite the many rivalries between packs, a few decades ago, the wolf families of Texas had decided to come together, forming a kind of council of wolves to strengthen their numbers and double their wisdom. They became known by others as the Texas Seven. It was a way to stay informed, to stay united, so that they could always be ready for any impending danger--always have an advantage. This was the first time since 1957, that someone had gotten the better of them and no one was quite sure how it had happened.</p>
<p>Out of all the different theories Tomas had heard about, the only one that made sense to him was that the head of the family, Josue Armendariz, had gotten in with the wrong crowd in an attempt to betray the Texas Seven. He hadn’t exactly been quiet about his discontent at how the council handled the issues they faced, oftentimes averting a threat instead of facing it head on. And Josue, well he was old school. At 73 years old, he still preferred a fight over peace treaties, and he was becoming increasingly annoyed at the lack of character shown by the heads of other households--all who were significantly younger than he. Tomas had overheard a conversation between Carmen and another elder that Josue had attempted to flee the council, making pacts with other packs outside of the state. It made sense that he’d underestimated the danger of dealing with these newer, younger, and unknown packs, and somehow had ended up betrayed himself--him and his entire family, brutally murdered. But not everyone believed that to be the story.</p>
<p>Canelo had come up with a wild theory, confiding only in Tomas before deciding he had to bring it up to the elders during the conference. When he’d first brought it up, Tomas had laughed it off thinking it was some kind of joke, but after he brought it up a third and even a fourth time, Tomas was convinced Canelo was crazy.</p>
<p>“I’m telling you, it’s those two Jersey chicks.” Tomas replayed Canel’s words in his mind. “I knew they were trouble then, and I <em>know</em> they’re trouble now.”</p>
<p>Tomas sat up on the edge of his bed, shaking the thought out of his head and trying to mentally prepare for how the conference was going to go. If he knew Canelo, and he did, he would try to derail the entire meeting, hoping to convince the elders that somehow his ridiculous theory was right. But everyone knew that Canelo had a grudge against Aurora and Marisol, especially after Carmen had opened up her home to them when all they got was some vague and half-assed story about their past. He still hadn’t been invited to the inner circle, and somehow these two strangers were invited with open arms into their home. He was tired of being the errand boy, tired of being overlooked, and when Ashely and Marisol showed up, he only felt more overshadowed. It didn’t help that Tomas had taken a liking to the girl and started spending more time with her than with Canelo--hanging out with her whenever he had the chance, taking her out to do all the cool shit they used to do together. Canelo had felt replaced and he let it be known anytime he saw Tomas and Marisol together. But that was different from this. This wasn’t Canelo’s bitterness at being the middle child, the forgotten puppy. He seemed dead serious about Aurora and Marisol’s involvement in the murder of the Armendariz family, and even worse, he seemed dead serious about proving it to everyone.</p>
<p>Tomas stood from the bed and made his way down the hall, kissing his mother on the cheek and letting her know he’d be back by midnight, before stepping out the front door. The conference hall was only a few blocks from where he lived, so walking let him enjoy the cool late November breeze. He walked slowly, bobbing his head along to the beat of the music still playing loudly in his ears, soaking in the sounds and the lyrics. To any outsider, he would have looked like a fool--his eyes were closed and he even swayed every now and then, dancing along to whatever song inspired him. Carmen always berated him when she saw him like that, warning him that he shouldn’t dull his senses, and that sooner or later someone was going to sneak up on him. He’d always tease her by pulling down his headphones and looking at her with a confused look on his face, “huh?” But the truth was that even with the music on, he was always hypervigilant to his surroundings--always in tune with his other senses so that he could be ready for any situation. Which was why he knew that in this exact moment, he was being followed.</p>
<p>He’d noticed it when he first stepped out of his home. He’d locked the door behind him and had immediately picked up on an unfamiliar scent--a mixture of death and rage, a smell that wasn’t too common in their neighborhood, even with all the wolves running around. At first he thought maybe it was just someone they knew, or just a stranger who happened to be watching him from afar. But after a few turns down a few different streets, Tomas could still feel the presence of another person, and he could feel the rage residing within them start to grow. Whether this was directed at him, or at his pack, there was no way he could let them follow him to the council meeting--the location of the hall was known only to the pack.</p>
<p>The way he saw it, he had two choices: he could confront whoever it was (which could potentially lead to a very violent encounter), or he could try to lose them. He picked the latter as he made his way into the closest restaurant, a locally owned Mexican mariscos place. He ordered his food with a Jarritos and sat down to eat, discreetly watching the entrance, waiting for whoever it was to follow him in. A blonde 20-something year old walked in, casually looked around and then walked up to the counter, ordering himself a plate of camarones a la diabla to go. Tomas watched as he ordered his food, chuckling to himself and wondering if a white boy like that even knew what he was getting--he looked straight up corn-fed. Handsome, charming smile, flannel on with the boots to match. It was then that it dawned on Tomas that he had never seen this man in his life. So it begged the question: why was he following him, and why was his rage locked on <em>him</em>?</p>
<p>Sensing his stare, the blonde took his food and turned to leave, but not before locking eyes with Tomas and sending him what could only be interpreted as a thereating smirk. Tomas felt the hair on his arms rise, along with a chill that rode all the way down his spine. This man was something, but he wasn’t anything Tomas had ever seen or heard of, and that only made him more dangerous. Why was he here and what could he possibly want with them? Did this guy have any connection to what happened to the Armendariz pack?</p>
<p>Tomas waited a few minutes before he got up and made his way over to the bathroom, shooting Carmen an urgent <em>NEED TO TALK</em> text before he attempted to shimmy his way out of the window. He landed on the outside of the building with a quiet thud, and after taking a second to make sure there was no one around, he ran down the back alley, taking the longer way to the conference hall and just hoping he could get there in time to talk to Carmen about what he’d felt.</p>
<p>----------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>When Tomas walked into the hall, the conference was already in full swing. Shouts were being hurled across the room and members argued over what should or shouldn’t be done about the massacre of a werewolf family. Some insisted that they do nothing--that they shouldn’t get involved in matters that didn’t concern them, while others argued that they should seek justice for the Armendariz pack.</p>
<p>“¿Y porque nosotros, si ellos nunca vinieron a nuestro auxilio?” Tomas recognized the voice as that of Esperanza, the 50 something year old that lived a view houses down from him. She was always kind and inviting, hosting the biggest posadas for christmas, and always willing to cook for their family parties, but when it came down to it, she was ruthless and strong. This moment was an instance of the latter, and Tomas didn’t blame her for feeling the way she did. Yes, the clans knew each other, and yes they often met when trouble arose throughout the states, but in times past, the Armendariz family and the rest of the Texas Seven had kept to themselves, even when other packs called for aid.</p>
<p>Several voices rose in agreement, supporting Esperanza and questioning their reasons for seeking justice for a family they hardly knew, while others grew frustrated with the lack of loyalty and honor their fellow members were displaying.</p>
<p>“It’s not a question of whether or not they helped us, it’s a question of who <em>we</em> are as a pack. ¿Somos nobles, o somos cobardes?” Another voice spoke up, quieting the shouting of all the others, and reeling back the focus of the room.</p>
<p>Tomas made his way over to Canelo, who was standing quietly next to the elders, his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for his turn to talk. He nodded at him silently as he took his place next to him, watching the conference unravel, and wondering just how all of this was going to end.</p>
<p>“It’s all one giant ass shit show.” Canelo shook his head.</p>
<p>“Has it been like this since the start?” Tomas asked him, not having realized that other members felt so strongly about the Texas families.</p>
<p>Canelo nodded his head. “I’m just waiting until somebody shuts them up so I can finally tell everyone what’s really going on.”</p>
<p>“You still on about that?” Tomas snorted. He’d hoped that Carmen might have talked him down to keep him from embarrassing himself, but she’d always been one to fight for the voices of others--<em>everyone gets a chance to speak, Tomas</em>.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Yeah, I’m still on about that.” Canelo glared at him, increasingly annoyed at the lack of support from his younger cousin. “And after I tell everyone about all the shit I dug up, even you won’t be doubting me.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say I doubted you…”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh. Whatever.”</p>
<p>“Look, I gotta talk to Carmen. Some real strange shit just happened to me on the way over here.”</p>
<p>“What kinda weird shit?”</p>
<p>“Some guerito was following me...smelled all rank and shit. Felt like he wanted to hurt me...I don’t know, could be nothing, but something just didn’t feel right.”</p>
<p>“Some gringo on this side of the neighborhood?” Canelo snorted, “That shit definitely don’t feel right.”</p>
<p>They both chuckled before Tomas walked around Canelo, making his way to Carmen and hoping he could get her attention before she had to intervene in the growing unrest within the conference. Catching her eye, he smiled at her before approaching her silently, so as not to disturb the others surrounding her.</p>
<p>“I got your text message.” Carmen said, looking back at the crowd in front of her, who still continued to argue over whether or not they should seek justice for another werewolf family. “Can it wait until after the conference...if you can call this display a conference.”</p>
<p>Tomas chuckled lightly as Carmen rolled her eyes. To others, she could appear stoic and distant, taking her role as Alpha too seriously and always remaining strong and composed. But Tomas knew better than that. He had seen the soft side of Carmen too many times to believe the talk of others. After Canelo had lost his parents, Carmen had taken to looking after him, as well as Tomas, whose own mother had become widowed early on in life--the price she’d paid for marrying a supernatural. He knew the extent of her kindness and care the way others could only guess at, and he knew that more often than not, she found herself exasperated by the trivial meetings the elders insisted on having. <em>We must respect the old ways Tomas...but God help me if they don’t drive me crazy</em>.</p>
<p>“Actually...I think it might be connected to what happened in Texas.” Tomas finally responded, wary of his words, and realizing the leap he was making in connecting the two recent events.</p>
<p>Carmen’s head snapped to her right as she turned to look at him, her eyes filled with worry and concern. “What happened?”</p>
<p>“I’m not exactly sure…” Tomas started to say.</p>
<p>From the far end of the hall, shouts could be heard, and Tomas struggled to focus on his retelling of that night’s events, as the voices and arguing grew louder and angrier. He could no longer tell what the board was fighting over, when suddenly the heavy oak doors of the hall slammed open, revealing an elderly woman, her rebozo soaked in blood, and her head cracked open.</p>
<p>“AUXILIO!” She yelled, her voice hoarse and terrified. “DIOS NOS AMPARE, QUE EL DIABLO HA LLEGADO!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You know how authors fall in love with their characters? Well these are ours, Tomas and Canelo. They will be featured more next week and then we'll get back to Marisol and Aurora! If you all wouldn't mind dropping a kudos or comment or even if you have a question, we greatly appreciate them! They give us little doses of serotonin.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter Twenty Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tomas and Canelo defend their pack and fight for their lives and loved ones.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Within moments of the conference doors opening, all hell had broken loose. A swarm of bodies had flown in, claws extended and slashing at anyone that stood before them as they made their way further and further into the hall. Tomas had been thrown aside by Carmen, who had leapt from her position in the room and threw herself into the growing chaos, fangs bared and eyes ablaze. She threw bodies down quickly, slashing and cutting as she went, trying to protect as many of her pack as she could. It was a sight to see, and enough to break Tomas out of his daze and shock, propelling him into the melee before him.</p><p>For a minute, it had seemed that despite the surprise, they were at an advantage--they had more numbers, more strength, and the enclosed space made it easy for them to tear down many at a time. As the members of the pack pushed back against their attackers, it appeared that they were beginning to retreat, perhaps realizing they had taken on a threat too big for them to handle. But even through the confusion of battle, Tomas could sense that something was not right. He looked side to side, searching for his cousin, and any of the Elders, some of whom had not seen fighting in many years. He found Canelo across the hall, his claws around the neck of a werewolf twice his size, his eyes full of rage and violence as he tore him down. Making his way to him, Tomas leapt over the few fallen bodies, helping others up as their unknown attackers began to fall back, exiting through the same entrance they had come.</p><p>By the time he had reached Canelo, the attackers were gone, and most of their pack was still standing. He could hear Carmen instructing a few of the members to go after them, make sure that they really had gone--and it was then that he had a most terrifying thought. <i>Mamá</i>.</p><p>They had gone after the rest of the pack--those who were not part of the conference, those who were not wolves--those without power. Here in the conference hall, his pack had the advantage, the numbers, the strength--but their real weakness lay in their families inability to protect themselves. Tomas yelled for Carmen, but it was too late. Glass from the high windows came crashing over their heads, and right in front of him landed what he knew all too well to be a smoke bomb, except it wasn’t only smoke that was released. Tomas fell to his knees, hands at his neck and he began choking--the others around him, falling on all fours and struggling to breathe. <i>Wolfsbane<i>.</i></i></p>
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  <i>“They’re trying to draw us out.”<i> Tomas could barely hear the voice of his cousin behind him as he tried to stand and make his way toward the open doors. This hadn’t been a random attack, this had been planned, just as he was now sure the murder of the Armendariz family had been planned. He looked around him, watching as the other bodies lifted themselves off the floor, trying to exit the building--those with extra strength, struggling to carry not only themselves, but the older members as well. He <i>had</i> to move. To get up and run home, protect his family, his neighbors.</i></i>
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</p><p>He felt an arm wrap around his waist and looked up to see Canelo holding him, dragging him as best he could towards the way out. Together, they both landed on the hard concrete outside, breathing in as much fresh air as they could, trying to clear out the wolfsbane that clung onto their lungs.</p><p>“No…” Tomas heard the strained voice of his cousin, as he took in their surroundings.</p><p>All around them, bodies lay strewn across the street and sidewalk--wolf and human alike, some dead and some barely breathing. There was a moment of haunting silence as the rest of the pack poured out of the conference hall and into the street, each taking in the sight of their dead loved ones before them. But it was a moment that wasn’t allowed to last, as their attackers once again rushed to ambush them, this time with more aggression and absolutely no mercy. </p><p>Tomas felt his claws sink deep in the chest of the young brunette before him, her blood pouring out as she tried to desperately release herself from his grip, but in mere seconds, he had taken his claws out of her chest, and ran them through her throat. She crumpled to the floor beneath him and he turned around quickly, frantically searching for the other members of his pack.</p><p>He felt another body leap on him from behind, slashing a cut clean across his chest as they clung on to him in an attempt to rip his head off. Bending over, he hurled them with whatever strength he had left, and jumped on them, tearing and slashing at their face, until they were no longer recognizable, even to someone who knew them. Another set of claws hacked at his back, making him scream in agony. He turned quickly and was upon his attacker in seconds, his own claws going into their chest, and piercing their lungs.</p><p>Back to back, attacker after attacker, Tomas fought and killed, trying to make his way through the streets and into his home. He prayed as we went, asking God for a miracle. <i>Please. Let her be okay. Dios, te lo ruego</i>. But it was a prayer that went unanswered and a miracle that never came.</p><p>He saw her then. She was levitating. Floating almost. At least two feet off the ground, with her arms at her sides and her head tilted up, eyes looking to the sky, almost as if she was searching. Searching for God. The same God that Tomas had called out to. The same God that watched as all the death and violence unraveling around them, as Tomas lost everything he’d ever had.</p><p>Tomas ran. He ran as hard and as fast as he could. Leaping over the dead, and tearing down anyone who dared to stand in his way, who dared to keep him from creating his own miracle--who dared to keep him from saving her before it was too late. But it didn’t matter who dared and who did not--right before his eyes, she fell, her limbs heavy and broken, her eyes empty and lifeless.</p><p>He felt a scream caught in his throat. He felt the shock racing through his body, breaking all his bones, forcing the air out of his lungs and rendering him useless. He felt himself, unable to move and unable to look away as his mother lay on the ground, unmoving and lifeless. Then he felt as two arms pulled him back from where he stood, dragging him away from this horrifying moment in time, and pulling him back into the reality of the battle around him.</p><p>“ SUELTAME! HIJO DE PUTA, LET ME GO!” Tomas clawed at the person behind him, blindly slashing and kicking as he tried to escape their grip.</p><p>“CALMATE TOMAS! IT’S ME, it’s me.” Canelo threw Tomas on the floor before placing both hands on either side of his face and looking him in the eye, trying to shake him out of his shock. “It’s me.”</p><p>Tomas’s eyes were red with tears and anger as he stared into the eyes of his cousin, searching for something that would tell him this was all a bad nightmare. That he hadn’t just seen his mother die right in front of him. But in Canelo’s eyes, Tomas only saw reflected the same pain and fear that he felt now. He looked around him, removing Canelo’s hands from his face as he watched the fighting on the street. Bodies lay everywhere, broken and severed, empty eyes on every face. Some of the houses had caught on fire and even the conference hall now glowed orange on the inside.</p><p>Canelo had dragged him off to a small alley between two of their neighbor’s houses, where they now watched from a relatively safe distance. “We have to go back.”</p><p>“We can’t.” Canelo shook his head. He was drenched in so much blood, he wasn’t even sure which was his and which was someone else's.</p><p>“We can’t stay here.” Tomas’s voice cracked, a sense of urgency behind his words. “We have to help them! We have to fight!”</p><p>“We <i>can’t</i> fight.” Canelo argued. “We are losing and we will continue to lose! Look around Tomas! How many of ours dead do you see?! Do you want to be the next dead body on that street?!”</p><p>Tomas didn’t say anything, instead standing and limping his way toward the open. When Canelo tried to drag him back, he merely pushed his hands away, angry and disgusted at him for cowering away. How could he just stay there? How could he turn away, when right in front of them, they were losing everything they’d ever had? Tomas trudged forward, ignoring the searing pain coming from the wounds on his legs--his ankle felt broken, but that didn’t matter, not when the rest of him was broken too.</p><p>“Tomas…” Canelo’s voice cracked behind him. “Tomas, we have to go.”</p><p>Tomas ignored him, slowly making his way to the street, determined to get back into the fight, take down as many as he could before going down himself. Canelo stood and made his way to him, trying his best not to put any weight on his right leg, from which bone was protruding. He knew what Tomas was feeling, he had felt it too so many years ago, and was feeling it again tenfold, but he also knew they couldn’t stay. Not with so much death surrounding them, not if they wanted to survive--and they had to survive. He may not be within the inner circle of his own pack, but he knew their ways, and survival of the family was crucial--it’s what Carmen would want.</p><p>“You can stay if you want to, but I’m going back.” Tomas panted heavily, turning back to Canelo with a scowl on his face. “I’m not leaving.”</p><p>They reached the end of the alley, and looked out into the street, watching as the last of their pack fell, one by one under the hand of this unknown enemy. Could it be they were the only ones left? That’s when they saw her. Carmen, bloodied and wounded, kneeling before the blonde that had followed him earlier that night.</p><p>Tomas and Canelo ducked out of sight and made their way to where the blonde stood with his hand around Carmen’s neck, readying themselves to attack. Despite his earlier argument to leave, even Canelo felt the primal urge to defend his Alpha--from this, he could not turn away.</p><p>“WHERE IS SHE?!” He yelled as Carmen looked up at him, contempt in her eyes. “Tell me where she is and I promise, I will ease your suffering.”</p><p>His words sounded venomous, and Tomas felt that he didn't mean what he promised, that he would not honor his word. He rose from the ground, preparing to pounce when a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. Canelo looked at him sternly, and even though he was of a lower rank than him, Tomas felt the authority his older cousin held over him as family. Canelo pointed to his ear quietly and nodded toward Carmen and the blonde wolf, listen.</p><p>“I cannot tell you what I don’t know.” Carmen spoke clearly and without fear.</p><p>“Do not lie to me.” The blonde growled. “I know she was with you. I know she lived here as one of your own. You will tell me where she is.”</p><p>“How entitled the youth have become.” Carmen smirked at him condescendingly.</p><p>The blonde growled and slapped her hard across the face. “I have killed EVERYONE that you love. I have taken EVERYTHING from you! I have destroyed you! YOU WILL SPEAK TO ME WITH RESPECT.”</p><p>“How foolish must you be to think that you could ever destroy me--us.” Carmen looked away from him, her gaze going beyond him and focusing on the two faces hidden behind the bushes surrounding the Ramirez’s home. “As long as one of us survives, we will never be destroyed.”</p><p>Tomas swallowed hard, his breathing heavy as tears began to flow from his eyes once again. She was talking to <i>him</i>. To <i>them</i>. She was telling them it was okay--they <i>had</i> to survive, to continue their legacy, continue their family.</p><p>“LOOK AT ME!” The blonde yelled as he pulled her face forcefully upward, making Carmen meet his eyes. “She has what I need, and I will procure it from her with or without your help.”</p><p>“Then it seems to me,” Carmen sighed, looking back across to where Tomas and Canelo sat hidden away. “That this is where we say goodbye.”</p><p>“I suppose it is.” The blonde scowled at her before tightening his grip around her neck and releasing his claws, her blood pouring around his hand as the life left her eyes.</p><p>Tomas choked on a sob, gripping the hand Canelo still had on his shoulder, and trying to get himself to look away from Carmen’s body now discarded on the floor. He’d lost them both in the same night--in the same hour--and now all that was left of them was him and his cousin. Two of them--out of hundreds.</p><p>Canelo crawled backward, pulling Tomas with him, while signaling him to move as quietly as he could. Once they were back in the alley, Canelo stood, wiping the tears from his face, and taking a deep breath.</p><p>“We have to go.”</p><p>“Where will we go?” Tomas looked up at him, tears still falling uncontrollably from his eyes as he sat there on the floor, feeling helpless and hopeless, his wounds still open and bleeding.</p><p>“The bay.” Canelo reached down to pull him up, dusting him off and placing his hands on his shoulders, trying to steady him.</p><p>“What’s in the bay?” Tomas asked, confused about what could be waiting for them, when everyone they knew, everything they had was here.</p><p>“No one was supposed to know.” Canelo sighed, checking their surroundings before he started making his way down the alley. “The only reason I know is because I accidentally overheard Carmen on a phone call...she made me promise not to tell anyone. First time she’d ever really trusted me.”</p><p>Canelo let out a wry chuckle.</p><p>“Know what?”</p><p>“That’s where they went.”</p><p>“Where who went?”</p><p>“Marisol and Aurora.” Canelo looked Tomas in the eye, knowing well what this news would mean to him. “We’re gonna go find them.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to everyone who has stuck with us. We will be back to Beacon Hills next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter Twenty Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kira invites Marisol over and has some Real Talk, while Aurora searches for answers of her own.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A part of Aurora held onto a sliver of hope as she drove up to the animal hospital, feeling somewhere between optimistic and pessimistic, but wanting to lean toward the former. She hoped that in some way or form, there was some kind of mistake--that the man Marisol had described was not the same as the man she had enjoyed yesterday afternoon. But from what Marisol had told her about the kids’ reaction, knew it was only wishful thinking.</p><p>After they finished up their movie night, both Aurora and Marisol agreed that they needed further information regarding Peter, and surely there was no one in town who knew more Peter Hale than Deaton--at least outside of the pack. Aurora sat in her car, taking a moment to assess the building, thanking her luck at being the only other car in the parking lot. Grabbing her coffee she quickly made her way inside, hearing the doctor call out to her from the back after the bell announced her arrival.</p><p>“No worries Doc, take your time.” Aurora called back before making herself comfortable in one of the chairs. “I’m sorry to drop in unannounced, but I was hoping to ask your advice on a personal matter.”</p><p>She took a sip of her coffee and allowed her mind to wonder, getting lost in her thoughts, both good and bad. She worried that her revealing her relationship to Peter would damage the one she was trying to create with Deaton, but she was hopeful he would be understanding--and even more hopeful that he would give her good news instead of bad. She sank deeper into the chair, feeling her anxiety come creeping back.</p><p>A few minutes later Deaton walked out from the back, “Good morning Miss Molina. What can I help you with?”</p><p>Aurora stood quietly and walked up to the front counter, noticing he had yet to break the barrier of mountain ash. Rather than drag it out, she decided to jump right into her reason for being there, being as straightforward as possible. “It has recently come to my attention that I’ve been… uh... <i>entertaining</i> the town’s most <i>un</i>desirable bachelor…”</p><p>Aurora paused, trying to gage Deaton’s reaction and tune in to what he may be thinking, but she received nothing from him aside from a pointed look encouraging her to continue. “I...uh, have a date with him tomorrow and I was hoping you could tell me more about the kind of man he is...just so I can be more prepared to, as my cousin so eloquently put it, ‘kick his ass to the curb.’”</p><p>

Deaton surveyed her for a few seconds, before unlocking the gate and motioning for her to come through, “I think this is a conversation best not to have in the open... One can never be too safe when it comes to Peter Hale.”</p><p>Aurora’s coffee sat next to her, growing colder as she forgot all about it, becoming increasingly concerned the longer Dr. Deaton spoke. She had thought herself prepared to hear the worst, but the worst didn’t even come close to all the atrocities that Deaton had described to her. How had she been so wrong about the man she’d been spending time with? She normally prided herself in being a good judge of character, and now her conversation was leaving her feeling ashamed.</p><p>Deaton had finally finished talking, and Aurora sat still, her eyes cast downward, trying to process everything she had just learned. He felt sympathy for her. She wasn’t the first to be bested by Peter, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last, but hopefully now she’d be able to move forward and leave him behind. “Peter is cunning and opportunistic...and it would be a shame if Marisol or yourself were to become a pawn in his schemes.”</p><p>Aurora nodded solemnly, agreeing and thankful for the good doctor’s insight. She went over their conversation in her head, wondering if Peter had always been like this, or if somehow, along the way, he had changed. Had the trauma of losing his entire family in a violent fire caused him to turn to a life of deceit and vengeance--always seeking to get ahead of everyone else, to be the most powerful. It was something she had always wondered about herself--if she hadn’t had Marisol to care for and be loved by, would she have turned out just like him?</p><p>“Did you know him when he was younger, before the fire?” she asked, after a few minutes of them just sitting quietly.</p><p>Deaton watched her face as he thought about how to answer. She wanted some hope that Peter could change, or maybe just hope that even the worst of them could redeem himself. But the truth was Deaton had always kept his interactions with Peter to a minimum--and for good reason. Peter was handsome, charismatic, ambitious, and knew perfectly well how to use that to his advantage. Talia had warned him early on about Peter, and Deaton figured that if his own sister would keep him at a distance, then he should too.</p><p>“When you came upon your slaughtered pack, what was your first thought?” Deaton asked, realizing that Aurora’s thoughts were now wandering back to her own experiences, trying to find a reason for Peter’s character. “How did you feel?”</p><p>Aurora hesitated to respond, thinking back to that night always brought tears to her eyes, and right now it was no different. “I went around checking to see if anyone was still alive--trying to find survivors...feeling more and more devastated with each body I found.”</p><p>“And what did you do then?”</p><p>“I went to check on the members who weren’t there--went after Marisol.” Aurora frowned, frustrated and confused about why she was retelling her story. “You already know this! Why are you asking me to relive it?”</p><p>Deaton took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eye, “When everything was taken from you, you ran on an instinct telling you what needed to be done, and that was to check upon the safety of what remained of <i>your</i> pack. You put them before yourself, and continue to do that to this day. You don’t worry that your pack is small, despite knowing that a larger pack would mean more power for yourself. You protect your family, and you work hard not to put her in harm's way. It’s what makes you a great Alpha.”</p><p>Aurora ducked her head to hide how much his words affected her, easing some of her fears that Deaton might have judged her for her relationship with Peter. She felt humbled by them, and proud of her little, two person pack.</p><p>Deaton reached across the table to lay a hand over her own. “You have a good heart. And unfortunately that means that others, like Peter, will try to take advantage of it to get what they’ve always believed was theirs by right.”</p><p>It took her a moment to collect herself, trying to fight the tears that continued to fill her eyes, but when she looked up at Deaton, she could see the conviction in his eyes.</p><p>She nodded at him, understanding what he was telling her and what she had to do.</p><p>“You know, I was surprised to learn from Scott that Peter had been spotted in public...at a bowling alley no less.” Deaton chuckled quietly, trying to break the tension that now lingered in the air.  “Of course when he mentioned who Peter was there with, it made me question whether I had made a mistake in trusting you... It brings comfort to know that it was not misplaced.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Aurora let out a sigh of relief. “For your trust...and for not revealing to Scott what we are. I know that wasn’t an easy decision for you.”</p><p>“It wasn’t.” Deaton looked at her once again, his tone was serious. “I hope you don’t plan to wait much longer.”</p><p>“I don’t.” Aurora knew from the conviction in his voice that if she didn’t reveal herself soon, Deaton would do it for her. </p><p>--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>At first Marisol was hesitant about accepting Kira’s offer to study at her house. Even before they had started traveling, Marisol had never done well in other people’s homes--she’d been raised by strict Mexican parents with strict Mexican manners, and even after two years without her parents, she still felt the pressure to behave properly. But after an hour or so of studying and light chatting, she was beginning to feel more at ease. They’d made small talk about classes and tests, mentioned some funny thing one of their friends had said or did, and now they sat focused on the books each had laid out on their lap.</p><p>“Do you think Coach will give another pop quiz this Friday?” Kira asked casually, flipping through her notes and highlighting sections from her book that she thought might come up on a test.</p><p>“Probably?” Marisol responded. “I mean, he’s given one every week since I’ve been here and I doubt he’d put it off just because we also have a test this week.”</p><p>“You’re probably right...he does like to make us suffer…”</p><p>Marisol chuckled lightly before going back to her notebook and jotting down a few bullet points from her Biology textbook. While she had been enjoying having Scott in her first period, she’d quickly realized that he wasn’t the best partner to have--always missing class, constantly distracted by ominous text messages, and somehow falling even more behind with each passing day. He was sweet and he definitely tried his hardest, but if Marisol was going to graduate on time and get into a good school, she needed a study partner who really knew how to focus and prioritize. It was why she had accepted Kira’s invitation to study today, and why she now sat on the floor grateful that Kira seemed to have her head still firmly placed on her shoulders.</p><p>The only downfall to their spontaneous study session was that Marisol hadn’t planned to go so long without eating and was now regretting having scarfed down her one and only granola bar during fifth period. She was starting to feel the ache in her belly and knew that sooner or later, the most unbecoming sound was going to come from her, alerting anyone within a ten mile radius of her hunger. It was one thing to ask for food--Marisol new better than to come off as demanding to a host--but it was another thing entirely for her stomach to give her away. Maybe there was some subtle way she could bring up the idea of food, without having to flat out ask for it?</p><p>Then, almost as if on cue…</p><p>“Knock, knock.” Kira’s dad said as he knocked on the door, drawing their attention and quietly stepping inside the room. “I know it’s important to stay focused, but it is also important to take a break, so I brought you some brain fuel.”</p><p>He brought in a tray loaded with an assortment of finger foods along with some water, setting it down on the bed before them.</p><p>“This looks amazing, Mr. Yukimura, thank you!” Marisol said, surprised at the amount of food he’d managed to fit onto the tray, and inwardly thanking whatever god was looking out for her and her stomach. She took in the foods that lay expertly displayed on the tray: sliced fruits between bowls of nuts and veggies with some dip on the side. Marisol figured Mr. Yukimura could give Aurora a run for her money when it came to hosting dinner parties--if this is what his snacks looked like.</p><p>“You’re welcome. And thank you for the compliment. It would seem my daughter here has forgotten how to be a good host.” He gave Kira a pointed look, causing her to hang her head and groan in embarrassment. “Will you be joining us for dinner, Marisol?”</p><p>“Oh, thank you, but no. Aurora is expecting me to be home for dinner.” Marisol answered, though feeling a little disappointed and wondering what dinner at the Yukimura’s would look like.</p><p>“Okay, well, I better let you get back to your studies.” Mr. Yukimura excused himself and left the girls to dive into the snacks and continue with their work. The two girls sat quietly munching, each lost in their own thoughts--Kira now worried that Marisol would find her to be a bad host, and Marisol wondering about how she could bring up her questions about Peter without seeming suspicious.</p><p>“So...question…” Marisol started, figuring it was best to just bite the bullet and be straightforward. Kira didn’t seem like the type to lie, so maybe this was her best chance at uncovering some more of the truth about Peter. She and Aurora had agreed they needed more info on Peter before Aurora broke things off, and while Aurora was supposed to have a talk with Deaton, Marisol was supposed to try to get as much information as she could out of the pack. The only problem was, the pack seemed to evade the topic as much as they could. No one asked her about Aurora and Peter, and if she ever tried to casually bring him up, they’d change the topic almost immediately. If anyone would tell her the truth, it had to be Kira. Kira who was always friendly, and almost always slipping up when she told a story.</p><p>“Uh-huh? What’s up?” Kira put down the celery stick covered in peanut butter, noticing the tension in Marisol’s voice.</p><p>“I know...that you guys told me to drop the subject...And I totally want to respect that, I do…” Marisol was hesitant to continue, wondering if pushing too far would cause her to lose her newfound friendships. “But...I was wondering if you could tell me more about Peter.”</p><p>Kira looked at the girl before quickly averting her gaze. The pack had made a deal to keep Marisol out of supernatural business, especially after they’d seen Aurora with Peter. They had to protect her, and the less she knew about their secret lives, the better--it was what they had agreed upon in order to keep Marisol out of harm’s way. But, wasn’t not telling her about Peter also dangerous? Even if Aurora had broken it off with him, it didn’t mean he would just leave her alone. And if he didn’t leave her alone, that could mean danger for Marisol anyway.</p><p>“What...do you want to know?” Kira sighed, giving in and hoping she’d be able to tell her enough without giving her cause to suspect them. Not that most normal people suspected them of being supernatural. In fact, given all that had happened in Beacon Hills over the past few years, Kira was surprised that more people <i>didn’t</i> know.</p><p>“You guys said he was bad news. And I totally believe you. But, I guess I just wanted to know what <i>kind</i> of bad news…” Marisol paused, unsure if she should continue. “I guess I just want some more concrete information to give Aurora.”</p><p>“Wait...You <i>did</i> tell Aurora that Peter was <i>not</i> a good guy right? And she <i>did</i> break up with him almost immediately, right?” Kira’s eyes were big as saucers, suddenly realizing that it was entirely possible that Peter still posed a threat to Marisol and Aurora’s lives.</p><p>“Well...yes. But also no…” Marisol looked away sheepishly, feeling guilty that she had promised the pack one thing but had agreed one another with Aurora. But it wasn’t like she could control her friend’s actions--Aurora was a grown woman and she was going to do whatever she wanted. She was lucky that Aurora had finally heard her out and taken her seriously about kicking Peter to the curb. “I told her everything you guys told me, but...she still saw him one more time. She’s going to break up with him on their next date though! I swear…”</p><p>Kira watched Marisol’s face, searching for any clue that might tell her she was lying, and hoping to find none. She didn’t. Breathing out a sigh of relief, she decided it was best to tell her the truth, or as close to the truth as she could get. “Look, Peter...he’s the type of guy to hurt others in order to get what he wants…”</p><p>“You mean like…” Marisol felt her stomach drop. Was she saying what she thought she was? Would Peter force himself on Aurora? And if she resisted, would he hurt her?</p><p>“Well, I don’t know about that…He mostly just tries to be in power--to be above everyone else...” Kira caught on to Marisol’s worries. “But I wouldn’t put it past him.”</p><p>The two fell into a pensive silence. Kira wondering about what else she should tell Marisol, and Marisol suddenly reeling at the possibility of someone hurting Aurora. Yeah, she could hold her own in a fight, but Peter was a pretty big man, and a big man could certainly hurt Aurora if he tried hard enough.</p><p>“Look,” Kira continued. “Last year...Peter hurt Scott.”</p><p>Marisol frowned, a concerned look on her face.</p><p>“Scott had something Peter wanted--something he thought was rightfully his. So Peter tried to take it from him.” Kira looked down, her brows furrowed as she recalled how she’d almost lost Scott, and how she could have been lost with him. “He went so far as to try to get us--his friends--to turn on him. It didn’t work, but <i>that’s</i> the kind of bad he is...He’s the worst kind out there.”</p><p>Suddenly, Kira’s words clicked in Marisol’s head--<i>Peter wanted something he thought was rightfully his</i>. Scott could only have one thing that a grown werewolf could want--his power as a True Alpha. And if he hadn’t been able to take it from Scott, what was to stop him from taking it elsewhere? Was it possible that Aurora had told Peter the truth about their identity? Or that he had figured it out on her own? What if dating Aurora had all been a ruse to take her power?</p><p>Kira looked at Marisol, reading the concern and terror written all over her face. Now she’d done it. She’d gone and told Marisol the truth, and now the girl sat there in complete shock, processing her words. She had to calm her down--had to reassure her that everything would turn out okay and that Peter wouldn’t do anything to her cousin.</p><p>“Aurora will be okay.” She tried. “We’ll make sure. We can...have her text you every few minutes so you know she’s okay. And I mean, they are going to be in a public place, so it’s not like he can really do anything there. Plus...I’m sure this is just casual dating for him. It’s not like Aurora has anything that he would want from her...aside I guess from sex…”</p><p>Marisol nodded her head absentmindedly as Kira rambled on, spouting out any idea she might have for making sure that no harm came to Aurora. Her thoughts kept going back to Delaware. To Sean and how he had wooed her and treated her nicely and made her feel safe and happy--before he took everything from her--ruined her. Was it possible they had travelled so long and so far, just to find another like him? Would Peter bring them ruin as well?</p><p>“I…” Marisol hesitated. “I get it.”</p><p>Kira stopped talking.</p><p>“When we…back in Delaware…” Marisol paused, restraining every bit of herself so she wouldn’t just blurt out <i>we’re werewolves</i> and start crying for lying to them. “We...knew someone like that...he caused us--me and Aurora--a lot of pain.”</p><p>Kira frowned, suddenly concerned about Marisol’s past and wondering how such a sweet girl could have known something so painful. When she looked at Marisol, she saw a reflection of herself--someone sweet and innocent and caring, but somehow caught up in the wrong side of things--or the right side, but still wrong in every way. She hadn’t asked to be a kitsune--hadn’t asked to become a member of a supernatural pack, but she had, and it had changed her. And she saw now, the same look of pain and anguish on Marisol’s face, as the one she saw often in the mirror. Did she know?</p><p>“Someone...like how?” Kira asked, tentatively.</p><p>“Someone like Peter…” Marisol responded. “Always looking for a way to get ahead, always taking from others--even if he hurt them.”</p><p>Kira watched her silently, her mind whirling with the idea that maybe Marisol already knew about the supernatural. Maybe she had even lived through it.</p><p>“Uhm...can we, maybe talk about something else?” Marisol scrunched her eyes and shook her head, trying to rid herself of all thoughts concerning the past, especially those concerning Sean. She didn’t have a therapist in Beacon Hills and she didn’t want to relapse--not again, not here.</p><p>“Uh, yeah...of course.” Kira said softly.</p><p>There was a short silence where the two of them felt awkward, not knowing how to move past this conversation and back to the light gossip they had been doing earlier. What had been said couldn’t be taken back, and now the tension that lingered in the air made them both feel uncomfortable.</p><p>Suddenly, Marisol let out a loud laugh.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head as her laughs came to a slow halt. “Things are so awkward now, I can only laugh.”</p><p>“It’s okay.” Kira chuckled. “I guess I could have tried harder to steer the conversation to something not quite as dark.”</p><p>“Eh it was my fault.”</p><p>“We can pretend it didn’t happen?”</p><p>“Let’s.”</p><p>“Okay, I’ll go then. What is your favorite place you’ve lived so far?”</p><p>Marisol went on to tell her about the time they spent in Canada, living with a group of lesbian fisherwomen--living solely off what they caught, and enjoying late night heart to hearts almost every day. She talked about searching for the Jersey Devil, and how despite Stiles’s teasing, she was still convinced he was real and would one day find him and rub it in his face. She spoke about Florida--went on and on about Fermin and how he was the greatest man Aurora had dated and how she secretly hoped they’d get married at one point.</p><p>“He’s the one who taught me how to dance!” Marisol smiled, remembering fondly how Fermin never complained when she tagged along to his and Aurora’s dates. “Aurora doesn’t know I know, but she let him go because of me…”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Kira asked.</p><p>“We couldn’t stay in Florida...Aurora was hellbent on finding a permanent home for me and I guess she thought Florida wasn’t it.” Marisol frowned slightly. She knew that the real reason for their constant moving was their search for answers, but she also knew that while Aurora would never admit it, they were also searching for a place Marisol could stay--finish growing up without the emptiness that was so prevalent in their lives. She wouldn’t tell her, but sometimes Marisol worried that Aurora was hoping to find a place to leave her so that she could carry on with her own life--a worry that went away when she had to witness Aurora letting go the only person she had ever truly loved. But now she wondered if Aurora knew that home for Marisol, was wherever she was. If Aurora had wanted to stay in Florida, settle down, find happiness with Fermin, Marisol would have gladly called it home--called them family. But Aurora wanted full acceptance--wanted a place where she and Marisol wouldn’t be met with resistance, a place where they could truly start over. “Florida was my favorite.”</p><p>“It sounds perfect...I’m sorry you had to leave.” Kira said sympathetically. She wondered how much more there was to their story than what they let on.</p><p>“Eh...silver lining is...I guess I wouldn’t have met you guys.” Marisol smiled at her.</p><p>“...Or Tomas?” Kira gave her a sly smirk, wiggling her eyebrows up and down.</p><p>“Oh my God, you too??” Marisol laughed and rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Lydia told me.” Kira said sheepishly.</p><p>“Of course she did.” Marisol marvelled at the pack’s inability to keep anything a secret, even something as trivial as her non existent dating life. She supposed it was a good sign that they were honest with each other, even if it meant she had to occasionally suffer the embarrassment of talking about Tomas.</p><p>After another hour of back and forth studying and chatting, Marisol finally took her leave. It was getting late and Aurora had promised to make a real dinner tonight--arroz con pollo y tostones, which Marisol was <i>not</i> going to miss. She packed her stuff up, and after some polite conversation with Mr. Yukimura, she finally headed home.</p><p>“You know, she might be my favorite out of your friends.” Mr. Yukimura decided before he went up to his bedroom, leaving Kira behind to roll her eyes. She knew her parents would like her--she was polite and had the manners all of her other friends seemed to be lacking.</p><p>With that thought Kira pulled out her phone and dialed Scott.</p><p>“Hey! How was your study date with Marisol?” Scott sounded cheery on the other end, and Kira worried about how to say what she was thinking.</p><p>“Hi...it was...it went great.”</p><p>“That’s great...why do you sound like the opposite?”</p><p>“I think we need to call a pack meeting…” Kira sighed heavily.</p><p>“A pack meeting? What for? What happened?” Scott’s tone changed to one of worry.</p><p>“I think...Marisol knows.”</p><p>“Knows what?”</p><p>“About us.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>2/12/2021 - We just posted a small companion piece to this series! You can find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29391522</p><p>Full of sweet and soft intimacy and fluff. Little Valentines treat for you all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter Twenty Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>PAPA STILINSKI HAS ENTERED THE BUILDING!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sheriff Stilinski had just gotten home from another long and tiring day, filled mostly with trying to find a perfectly sensible explanation for all the events that had happened in the last few months. While he was glad to be in the loop with all things concerning the supernatural, he had to admit that it put a strain on both his job and his mental health. It had been bad enough when Scott’s dad had shown up, trying to take over his investigations and accuse him of being negligent in his job, but since then, issues had escalated and had involved multiple mass murders caused by an ancient werewolf beast with a huge superiority complex. Things certainly weren’t going to get easier moving forward, and it would probably only be worse once his son and all his friends went off to college. How was he supposed to handle all this on his own?</p><p>He sighed as he opened the fridge, looking in only to find they had nothing besides the bare essentials--pizza it is, again. Pulling out his phone, he called out to Stiles, even though he knew in the end he’d be ordering exactly the same thing they ordered every time.</p><p>“Son, how do you feel about a pepperoni pizza tonight?” He waited for a response, already tapping “add to cart” on his phone before checking out. “Listen, I know we’ve had pizza three times this week, but uh...I promise to get groceries soon.”</p><p>He looked around the kitchen, realizing he was talking to no one and that he still hadn’t heard a word from his son upstairs. He could have sworn he saw the jeep in the driveway, so maybe one of the girls had picked him up--he hoped it had been Kira, since she seemed like the most responsible driver out of the three. “Stiles? You here?”</p><p>Receiving no answer, he made his way up the stairs, calling out again. “Stiles? Son?”</p><p>He found Stiles’s bedroom door slightly ajar, the sound of rustling papers and frustrated mumbling coming from inside. Noah rolled his eyes and opened the door quietly, leaning against the door frame and watching as Stiles scrambled around his floor, moving papers from stack to stack, writing notes on some before shuffling on his knees over to his board. Noah let his eyes roam over the pictures on Stiles’s board, recognizing one of them as the girl he and Stiles had seen when they had gotten breakfast the other day--the new girl, Stiles had mentioned.</p><p>“You know after everything that happened with the Beast and Malia’s mom, I thought we were finished obsessing over things...and <i>people</i>.”</p><p>Stiles let out a scream that sounded more like a chihuahua’s yelp, turning around to face his dad and falling back against his board, nearly knocking it down. “Wow, dad! Knock much?”</p><p>“I didn’t think knocking was necessary, given that I’ve been yelling your name for the past five minutes.” The sheriff scoffed at his son, looking at the mess that lay before him.</p><p>“Yeah, well...I didn’t hear you.” Stiles rolled his eyes, getting back on all fours and organizing some of the papers that had flown out of his hands when his father appeared. “And knocking is...<i>always</i> appreciated.”</p><p>“What is all this anyway.” Noah gestured at the mess in the room as he made his way inside, going over to the board and trying to decipher what half of Stiles’s notes meant.</p><p>“It’s just...research.”</p><p>“Yeah, I see that.” Noah looked back at his son, who was once again absorbed in the printed sheets in front of him. “Research on what, exactly?”</p><p>“Just...a hunch.” Stiles sighed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. After Scott had text the pack calling for a meeting, he realized this was also his chance to tell them what he saw in the forest, and expose the truth about Marisol and her cousin.</p><p>“Okay, alright, talk to me son.” The sheriff sighed, frustrated as always at his son’s inability to produce anything other than a vague response. “What’s this all about, really?”</p><p>Stiles looked up at his father, unsure of what he could tell him, and unsure about how he would take it. “I...think the new girl and her cousin...aren’t what they appear to be.”</p><p>“What do you mean ‘not what they appear to be’? What, you think they’re supernatural or something?”</p><p>Stiles simply nodded, his lips going into a straight tightlipped smile. Noah shook his head, trying to wrap his head around the possibility of yet another catastrophic event happening before the year was done. Just then the doorbell rang, alerting them both to the arrival of their dinner. “Okay, I can’t deal with any of this on an empty stomach, how about we go downstairs, eat some pizza, and you can tell me what’s so wrong with these girls.”</p><p>“Uh, yeah, I’ll be down there in a minute dad, i just need to--”</p><p>“Now, Stiles!” Noah yelled behind him as he made his way back down the stairs.</p><p>“Yep! Coming down, now.” Stiles ran after him, knowing it was better to have his dad on his side than fighting his personal investigation every step of the way. </p><p>“So you’re telling me that you think these two girls are werewolves, or <i>something</i>, and have teamed up with <i>Peter</i> of all people, to do...<i>something</i> bad, and you’re the only one who knows anything about it?” Noah squinted his eyes, hoping he had heard everything his son had rambled on about correctly.</p><p>“Uh, yep, that about sums it up.” Stiles nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting for his dad’s opinion on the matter. “Did you... well, you missed the part where I saw them running at supernatural speed...like, they were...really, really, fast...I did, you get...that part?”</p><p>“Yeah, I got it.” Noah shook his head, confused about one thing. “Wouldn’t Scott know though? If they were werewolves...couldn’t he...I don’t know, smell them or something? Is that even a thing?”</p><p>“Yeah, dad, that’s a thing. And he could...unless they were masking their scent.”</p><p>“Is <i>that</i> a thing?”</p><p>“Yes dad! There are many things that are things!” Stiles responded exasperated.</p><p>“Okay, so let’s say, for the sake of this conversation, that they are werewolves--ones that apparently can mask their scent.” The sheriff was trying to give his son the benefit of the doubt, but he had to be realistic--Stiles often got carried away with his ideas. “What makes you think that they are up to something? I mean, does going on a date with Peter really merit suspicion?”</p><p>“This is <i>Peter</i>, dad.” Stiles looked at his father incredulously. “You remember Peter, right? The guy who killed his own niece to become an alpha? Who murdered various members of this community in some self righteous crusade for revenge? The guy who <i>after he was killed</i>, used <i>Lydia</i> to come back to life, and who quite recently I might add, tried to skill <i>Scott</i>--my best friend. You remember that guy?”</p><p>“Okay, tone it down.” Noah shook his head, annoyed at the tone his son was taking on with him. “Of course I know all of that, I just think that it’s a bit of a jump to go from someone dating this man, to someone being actively involved in his schemes. I mean...Melissa went on a date with him once.”</p><p>“That’s different though. That was before we knew everything, and before Melissa knew anything...plus she isn’t supernatural.” Stiles shook his head.</p><p>“Okay, well I still don’t think that--Aurora, was it?--is necessarily up to no good just because she’s been on a few dates with Peter Hale.”</p><p>“Maybe not, but then why lie about who they are?” Stiles countered. “I looked them up okay. Did you know Marisol was questioned by the police over a mass murder?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Well, apparently she went to the police in the first place. Said she’d found her parents mutilated in their home, and after that they questioned her about some mass murder that happened in the woods.”</p><p>“Stiles...that’s some pretty awful thing to happen to a kid.” Noah’s eyes widened at the information his son was supplying. “What--How did you even find this?</p><p>“Deep Deep search into the Delaware news.” Stiles admitted. “It was the only thing they wrote about for weeks, and the investigation came out inconclusive...and where else do we know about where mass murders happen, where the case is always...inconclusive?”</p><p>“Beacon Hil--”</p><p>“<i>Beacon Hills</i> dad. It just all sounds a little too familiar to be a coincidence or to mean nothing.”</p><p>“Okay, okay, you’re right.” Noah surrendered, putting his hands up. “But even then, what makes you think that these girls are a part of something bad? I mean, isn’t this Marisol girl the one everyone says is a sweetheart? Didn’t you call her cute just last week?”</p><p>“Evil people can be cute too dad, just ask Jackson.” Stiles rolled his eyes.</p><p>“You think <i>Jackson</i> is cute?”</p><p>“Dad, focus here, please.” Stiles pleaded with his father, who seemed to get as easily sidetracked as he did when having an important conversation. “Look, I’m not fooled by her little innocent act. I knew there were holes in her story...she told us her parents died in an <i>accident</i>, but now we know that isn’t true.”</p><p>“Stiles, some people might just not want to tell everyone about their traumatic past.” Noah tried to understand where his son was coming from, but found it made sense that these two girls would hide their identities, or at least try to leave them behind.</p><p>“Yeah, maybe dad…” Stiles paused for a few seconds, wondering if maybe his dad was right and he was simply overreacting as usual.  “I just don’t want a repeat of Theo.”</p><p>Stiles looked him straight in the eye and Noah knew what he meant. With Theo, all of them had suffered a great loss in some way or another, and Stiles had almost lost the only family he had left. If his son was right about these two, they ran the risk of losing even more people than they had before, and Noah wasn’t sure his son could deal with any more loss and heartbreak.</p><p>“Alright...Let me...let me take a crack at this ‘research’ you’re doing.” Noah gave in, hoping that in helping his son, he’d either prove him wrong, or at the very least be ahead of the game.</p><p>“You’ll help?” Stiles asked enthusiastically. “Because, I mean, I can do more. I, I could come down with you to the station, run a couple background checks, maybe see if either of them have any priors.”</p><p>“Okay, okay, cool your jets.” Noah waved him off. “ Why don’t you let me do the police work, and you can stick to what you can find on their social media, yes?”</p><p>“Yes! Deal! Perfect!” Stiles slapped his hands repeatedly on the table, excited to have the support of his dad and at the possibility of gathering more concrete evidence to provide at the pack meeting.</p><p>“But Stiles,” Noah started to say as he got up from the table, putting his dish in the sink. “If these girls are dangerous, you have to let me bring them into the station.”</p><p>“I don’t know dad...I mean--”</p><p>“<i>Stiles</i>.” Noah interrupted sternly.</p><p>“Yeah, okay, you got it.” Stiles conceded. “Just...give me time to talk to Scott and the others first.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter Twenty Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The pack, Scott, Kira, Malia, Stiles, Lydia, Liam, and Mason all gather together for a meeting.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thursday afternoon Scott and the pack gathered around his kitchen island, Kira and Malia finishing off the leftover Chinese Liam had found for them in the fridge. He and Mason had arrived early with some pizza bites and pizza rolls, but ended up eating them all before the rest of the pack arrived, which resulted in a very hungry and very grumpy Malia. She had been looking forward to pizza snacks, and now she was stuck gobbling down some stale chow mein--the only bright side was the way Liam would occasionally look back at her as if to check she wasn’t about to pounce. She felt satisfied with herself that she could still make the youngest of their group feel uneasy--she still had it, despite what Stiles had said about her going soft. </p><p>The last of them to show up was Lydia, saying she had to drop Prada at the groomers first, and offhandedly commenting on how this meeting better not go long, she had a long list of things she had to get done before school the next day. Scott had been secretive about why they were meeting, and Lydia wasn’t one to waste time doing something she didn’t even know the purpose of. Once she took a seat next to Malia, the others fell into silence, looking at Scott expectantly. </p><p>Stiles looked around the group, waiting for someone to speak up so they could get started, and then finish, so he could get back to his research. He was glad that his father had listened and could only hope the rest of them would too when he finally presented all he and his father had found. He’d stayed up two days in a row, trying to gather as much information he could which supported his growing theory, and now he just needed the rest of them to listen and believe him. When no one spoke up, he took it upon himself to get the meeting started, “Sooo... Scotty, what are we doing here?”</p><p>“Actually, I’m the one that asked Scott to call this meeting together.” Kira interjected, tentatively held her hand up, drawing everyone’s attention to her. She quickly and awkwardly dropped her hand, taking a step back, but Scott stopped her, placing an arm around her and pushing her forward again. He smiled and nodded at her to continue, “I hung out with Marisol yesterday.”</p><p>Stiles scoffed loudly, not believing that girl was the reason they were here (even though his own intentions for attending this meeting also revolved around this girl, but that was different.)--he had thought this had been an emergency. Malia shot him a look that told him he better be quiet or else--she wasn’t about to hear him go on about how he didn’t like or trust the new girl, not again. Liam and Mason were doing a poor job of containing their laughter at Stiles cowering at Mailia’s glare, that is until Malia turned her look on both of them. They stopped immediately, Mason letting out a disguised chuckle as a cough, before they both sat up straighter, trying to project the image of innocence. Once everyone was settled again, Kira continued. </p><p>“I invited her over for a study date, well actually I really just wanted to hang out with her, but then Ms. Thompson decided to give us that six page paper due next week and figured might as well get some actual work done and--.” Kira began, but teetered off when she looked up and realized she was rambling.</p><p>“And?” Malia asked, impatiently. </p><p>“Marisol asked about Peter again.” Kira said in such a rush, hardly anyone understood what she said.</p><p>“Did you just say <i>Peter</i>?” Stiles asked.</p><p>“Umm...yeah. Marisol, she...she asked if there was anything else I could tell her...wanted something to tell her cousin other than, ‘he’s a bad guy’...” Kira offered in explanation, a small grimace on her face, unsure of what to expect once they all heard what she needed to say next. Fortunately for her, or perhaps not, she didn’t need to say anything, her friends quickly caught on to what she was trying to tell them.</p><p>“Wait, are you saying…” Malia started to ask, but Stiles spoke up, cutting her off.</p><p>“I knew it, she’s still with him. I bet you they’re working together! I bet you they’ve been in on something this entire time, and Marisol too--I knew I didn’t trust her. And look,  there’s something I gotta tell you all, I was going to wait until after--at least until my dad got back to me about their background checks, but I really think you all need to see this.” He grabbed his backpack, opening it up and dumping out its contents, folders and papers spilling out across the counter.</p><p>Mason and Liam jumped back as the papers came flying towards them, scrambling to help catch them before they all fell to the ground. Mason reached down to pick up the few that had fallen off, surveying it  “Why do you have police reports from...Kent county? Where is that?”</p><p>“It’s in Delaware, give me that.” Stiles reached over to snatch the reports from the boys and added them back to their appropriate folder.</p><p>“Delaware? Stiles what did you do?” Malia asked, her tone letting him know she wasn’t happy.</p><p>“Why is your father running background checks?! What did you tell him?” Scott asked. He was starting to get frustrated with Stiles, it was bad enough when it was just him, but now he’d gone and dragged the Sheriff into it unnecessarily.</p><p>Stiles went around the counter, laying the papers out in some order that only made sense to him, not noticing the looks of worry and concern the rest of the pack gave each other. “I’ve been researching, my dad is running background checks because it’s a smart move. We should have done it after the first day when Marisol picked Scott as a lab partner!”</p><p>"Stiles you know she didn’t pick me, she was assigned a partner because you were late.” Scott tried reasoning with him, looking at the array of papers in front of him, and noticing that same obsessive behavior Stiles took on every time he thought he was onto something. </p><p>“Some of these are a huge invasion of privacy.” Lydia said in disbelief as she thumbed through the pages. “Past addresses, tax statements...her parents' autopsy--Stiles, this is too much!” </p><p>“Please, I just need you guys to listen to me, trust me on this. Something isn’t right with them.” He pleaded, a desperate look in his eye. “Did you know, the night before Marisol’s parents death, there was an animal attack on a family gathering? and then the night of their deaths, there was another one. The police couldn’t place what kind of animal, but they believe that whatever it was who attacked these groups is the same that got her parents.” </p><p>As Stiles talked, he gestured wildly with his arms and picked up each report to go with what he was saying, “Marisol told us they had moved around, but they’ve been all over the country and even spent some time in Canada. They’ve moved eight times within the last two years. Who does that unless they are on the run? There are holes in the story Marisol told us and the way she talks about the past, she’s hiding something, they both are!”</p><p>“Stiles,” Scott sighed, “this is crazy. There is nothing here that proves that they aren’t to be trusted. If anything it shows that they have had a hard time and you heard Marisol tell us that Aurora isn’t one to settle down easy.” </p><p>“I saw them!” Stiles yelled, exasperated. “They were running through the preserve! Fast, supernaturally fast! Like you! Like Kira! Like Liam!”</p><p>“Stiles, please, calm down. When was this?” Scott asked. </p><p>“It doesn’t matter when, it just matters that I did. They aren’t to be trusted!” Stiles looked to Scott pleadingly, begging him to hear him out. This was all beginning to feel all too familiar and that only made Stiles worry more--Scott had been dismissive about his concerns with Theo, and now he was doing it again. </p><p>“Why were you even at the preserve?” Lydia questioned, wanting to know. </p><p>“I was working on my long distance. Really trying to impress Coach this year during cross country season.” Stiles, scoffed. “Why does that even matter?” </p><p>All but one was watching and waiting as Scott and Stiles had an intense staring contest, both positive that they were right and wishing the other would <i>just listen</i>. Kira was reading over the police reports from the nights Stiles talked about, picking up the autopsy report to verify that indeed the police had connected that the claw marks were the same. <i>We...knew someone like that...he caused us--me and Aurora--a lot of pain.</i></p><p>“She <i>does</i> know.” Kira whispered to herself, but everyone heard it in the growing silence that had followed Scott and Stiles arguing.</p><p>“Who knows what?” Mason asked.</p><p>“Marisol! When I was trying to explain how horrible Peter really is without giving anything away--” Kira started, but was interrupted by Malia. </p><p>“You never did tell us what you told her.” </p><p>“I told her about last year, how he tried to manipulate us to turn on Scott and that Peter almost killed him, only I left out all the specifics.” Kira answered, frustrated by the interruption, and concerned for what this all meant for their new friend. “Now as I was saying before...look, the main reason I wanted to talk to you all is I think Marisol knows about the supernatural.”</p><p>“Orrr...she <i>is</i> supernatural!” Stiles interjected, annoyed at the shift of focus. Sure when he said something, they all treated him like he was crazy, but let anyone else have an insane theory, and suddenly they were all ears. </p><p>“What makes you think that?” Malia asked, ignoring Stiles’s comment.</p><p>“It was something she said...after I told her. She said, <i>‘ We...knew someone like that...he caused us--me and Aurora--a lot of pain’</i>...” Kira paused. </p><p>“Okay, so you think whoever this guy she was talking about, who she said caused both her and Aurora a lot of pain, is a werewolf? And that he’s responsible for at least the death of Marisol’s parents?” Lydia asked for clarification, suddenly Stiles wasn’t sounding too crazy, if only misguided. </p><p>“Yes! I mean, when I told her about Peter she became terrified, I think she may have been on the verge of a panic attack. At first I was afraid that I had said too much, but the way Marisol looked, like she was stuck in a living nightmare. I think she was remembering the night her parents died. And look at the autopsy report, where the Dr. describes the claw marks. They can’t name the animal that made them.” Kira pointed out.</p><p>“Do you think they know about Peter?” Malia asked.</p><p>“If they didn’t before, they probably do now.” Scott said. </p><p>“Don't you see, this just makes them more dangerous. If Marisol knows about werewolves, then you can bet Aurora does too! Why else would she be dating Peter, unless she already knew what he is!” Stiles stated.</p><p>Kira interrupted before anyone else could answer, “But she’s not dating him anymore! Or at least she won’t be. Marisol told me that Aurora is planning to break up with him on their date tomorrow night. Plus, why would Marisol be so terrified when I told her about Peter? If she already knew about him…”</p><p>Stiles stayed quiet, feeling stumped, but not entirely convinced that this cleared both girls in any way. He knew plenty of people who feared others who were still bullies themselves--being afraid of one person, didn’t mean they still weren’t dangerous. </p><p>“I mean, can you really blame her for being afraid for Aurora? Who knows what Peter will do when she breaks things off with him?” Kira continued. </p><p>Scott spoke up without a second thought, “Okay then...we’ll follow her!”</p><p>“Who? Aurora? All day?” Liam asked, finally speaking up. He had been content to just sit back and observe. He really didn’t want to get between Stiles and Scott and he really didn’t want to be told he was going to have to spy on someone he didn’t know. </p><p>“No, not all day, just while she’s on her date. We can follow them, we...can stay in the car and just uhh, listen in. Just in case, you know, to make sure nothing happens to her. Yeah?”</p><p>Lydia nodded along, it sounded like a decent plan except for one detail, “Who’s going to drive?”</p><p>“Me! I will! I can drive!” Stiles volunteered. </p><p>Scott looked at him uncertain about his sudden enthusiasm, but when Lydia spoke up saying she had plans with Parrish for Friday night he knew there was no other choice. “Alright, I guess it’s you and me.”</p><p>“And me!” Malia almost shouted, “I wanna help.”</p><p>“Anyone else?” Scott asked.</p><p>Liam and Mason looked at each other and shrugged, intending to raise their hands to volunteer, but the look Scott gave them had them lowering their hands back down.</p><p>“What if something does happen?” Kira asks. It was something all of them had been thinking, but didn’t want to bring up. She didn’t want anything more to happen to Marisol or Aurora, if her speculation about what or who was behind the death of their family was correct--that was a lot to handle already. What if they held a grudge against the supernatural because of it? If either of them learned about what her and her friends really were, would they accept them or would they hate them for lying? Would they run? Would they fight? Kira scolded herself for thinking that way, of course Marisol wouldn’t just abandon them like that. She was pulled from her thoughts by Stiles’s rather loud exclamation.</p><p>“Scott, come on man, you can’t be serious!”</p><p>“What else would you have us do Stiles, we can’t leave them unprotected, especially from Peter!”</p><p>Kira sheepishly tapped Scott on the shoulder, “Sorry, I didn’t catch what you said before…”</p><p>He smiled at her, “I said, I think it’s about time we added some new pack members.”</p><p>Kira looked at his grinning face and smiled, feeling relief. Whether Marisol or Aurora were who they say they were, or whether they were connected to their world--supernatural or not, Kira was glad they’d be under their protection. That’s what they did right? Isn’t that what Scott had told her when they had first met? We protect those who cannot protect themselves.</p><p>“Great!” Liam exclaimed, “Who is Marisol?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was a rush channeling seven different people and making sure everyone was heard!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter Twenty Six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Peter and Aurora’s date doesn’t exactly go according to plan when Scott, Malia and Stiles plan a stakeout in order to keep an eye out for Aurora.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Friday evening had finally come around, and Aurora found herself feeling anxious about the night--the feeling growing as she watched Marisol pace from the living room to the kitchen over and over. After Marisol had told her all that Kira said, Aurora understood the gravity of the situation, and even more so, the gravity of Marisol’s fear. They’d already lived through one traumatic situation, and with the warnings Kira gave her, Marisol was more on edge than before, which in turn made Aurora feel on edge.</p><p>When Peter called to say he was on her way to pick her up, Aurora felt eager to leave as soon as possible, meeting him out on the porch before he even pulled into the driveway. She quickly made her way to his car, climbing in from the passenger’s side and forcing herself to face him.</p><p>“Somebody’s anxious to get going...You could have at least let me get the door for you.” He greeted her with a searing kiss which she returned, though not with as much passion as he’d grown accustomed to. He pulled back and smiled warmly at her, looking in her eyes and trying to guess what was going through her mind. Deciding it was nothing, he turned back to the steering wheel and began pulling out into the street. As they drove away Aurora looked up to see Marisol watching them and shot her a reassuring smile, though she suspected it wouldn’t have the effect she was hoping for.</p><p>While Peter’s charming nature made it easier for Aurora to return his flirting, she found it hard to relax, the doctor’s words playing over and over again in her mind--his warning along with Kira’s, reminding her that this was a dangerous man, however charming he may be. As she answered Peter’s small talk, she began to doubt herself. Could she really keep up the charade long enough to break things off before he figured out that she may know more than he’d like? Would she really be able to play the part of passionate, affectionate lover now that she knew the truth about him? Maybe going on a date was a bad idea. Maybe she just needed to get it over with, without all the ruse and fanfare. But before she could suggest that they go somewhere else, possibly somewhere less public, they had arrived at their destination.</p><p>Once they were seated, a waitress wandered toward them, taking Peter’s order for some appetizers and turning to leave, but not before she shot a flirty wink at him with a smile to follow. Her unabashed flirtation made Aurora laugh and helped to ease some of the tension still lingering from the car ride. She was able to keep up with the flow of conversation, answering his inquisitive questions with as much truth as she dared give, and flirting just enough when the moment called for it. While the conversation revolving around him was something Peter normally wouldn’t complain about, he kept waiting to see if she had any questions of her own--surely there was more she wanted to know than just his drinking preferences and how old he was.</p><p>Peter hadn’t been sure at first, but after this mostly one-sided conversation, now he was certain. Aurora was different--not reacting to his touch as much as she had before, and she seemed to need to think her answers through before giving him what had mostly been vague replies—her every move felt calculated. She wasn’t acting as she had been before, carefree and impulsive, shamelessly flirtatious and sensual--and if he didn’t know any better, he could swear that she was controlling her heart rate. That’s when it all clicked. The emotional distance, the vague answers, the way she would avoid his gaze every time he tried to look her straight in the eye.</p><p>“I see now.” He said, dropping his fork on his plate and leaning back into his seat.</p><p>Aurora looked at him confusedly, “Beg pardon?”</p><p>“They talked to you didn’t they.” His smile bordered on a sneer.</p><p>Aurora’s composure cracked. He had figured it out. She wasn’t sure how--she had been putting in a great amount of effort to laugh at all his silly little jokes, to make sure she was connecting to him the way she had in their previous encounters. But the longer he stared at her, assessing her, the more she understood the warnings from Marisol's friends and doctor. Here was the man they had said she should stay away from. </p><p>-------------------------------------------------</p><p>“That’s not good.” Malia commented, abruptly. Shortly after Peter had pulled out of Aurora and Marisol’s driveway, Scott, Malia and Stiles had started their car (conveniently parked across the street) and followed the couple to their destination. Now they sat in Stiles’s jeep, trying to inconspicuously listen in on their conversation and hoping they wouldn’t have to intervene.</p><p>“What’s not good? What’s happening? What did they say?” Stiles asked rapidly, one question after the other, only to be shushed by Malia as she and Scott continued to listen in. Stiles pouted and went back to observing the couple through the binoculars he’d brought for occasions such as this.</p><p>“Do you hear that?” Scott asked.</p><p>“No.” Stiles answered over Malia, who answered yes.</p><p>“Her heart rate picked up.” Malia said helpfully.</p><p>They all turned to watch through the windows, anxious to see what would happen next. Scott was worried. He hadn’t been pleased to hear about Marisol’s cousin going on a second date with Peter, especially after they asked Marisol to pass on their concerns. The fact that Aurora had plans to dump Peter on the date helped to relieve the doubt that anything suspicious was going on, no matter what Stiles said--and yet, he couldn’t quite help feeling that something else was going on. Maybe they should have just told Marisol the truth, then at least Aurora wouldn’t be in the danger he feared she was in now. But instead, here they were, and they all knew first hand what happens when things don’t go to Peter’s plan, and he wanted to be there in case things got out of hand.</p><p>Malia felt bad for spying on Aurora, but she didn’t trust Peter, so she justified it by telling herself this was their only way to look out for Aurora. She definitely wasn’t doing this because she knew Marisol would hate her if anything happened to Aurora on her watch--not that Malia was really worried about Marisol hating her (at least that’s what she told herself so she wouldn’t get distracted and panic about losing her new friend). But so far Peter had been acting like a perfect gentleman, even his smiles and laughter seemed to be genuine. It made Malia feel a certain way she couldn’t describe, but at least there hadn’t been any flirting like at the bowling alley--that was bordering on disgusting.</p><p>In the driver’s seat sat Stiles, his binoculars out and pressed against his eyes as he tried hard to figure out if his lip reading was accurate--though after a few sentences that made absolutely no sense, he wasn’t that sure he knew what was going on at all. Still he persisted. <i>This is it. This will finally show Scott and Malia that these people aren’t to be trusted</i>. He still couldn’t fathom how no one in the group could see how the evidence he brought together was all connected--how all of it pointed to these two girls being someone they couldn’t believe in, how they were involved in something messy--something messy and evil. But here now, he realized he couldn’t prove anything if he didn’t know what they were saying. He should have brought Liam along, because at least he would have brought Mason, who would have brought snacks—and they would tell <i>him</i> what was being said without him having to constantly ask.  “Guys, hey guys! Remember me? Human. Can’t hear what’s going on.”</p><p>Scott’s full focus was on the conversation taking place between Aurora and Peter, without looking away he reached sideways and motioned for Stiles to keep it down, accidentally slapping Stiles in the face. Stiles sat back, letting out a quiet “ow” before glazing to his right at Malia sitting in the back seat. He noticed her jaw tighten and her hands curling into fists.</p><p>“Malia?” He asked, concerned at her sudden rise in anger. She didn’t respond, but instead kept listening, a scowl appearing on her face.</p><p>“Aurora just said she knows Peter is Malia’s dad.” Scott told Stiles helpfully.</p><p>“How could she know that?” Stiles questioned.</p><p>“Marisol must have told her. After that night at the bowling alley.” Malia took a deep breath to calm her anger and found herself wondering one thing, “Do you think Peter actually likes her?”</p><p>“With Peter, who knows.” Scott mumbled.</p><p>“I don’t understand how <i>anyone</i> could find Peter's company pleasant.” Stiles added.</p><p>They continued to listen, Malia quietly relaying to Stiles what was being said until she suddenly stopped mid sentence, her mouth hanging in shock.</p><p>“What happened?” Stiles asked as he scrambled to look through his binoculars.</p><p>“She just owned him.” Scott said, a smile tugging at one side. “She used his own words against him and now he’s dumbstruck!”</p><p>“Oh, I like her.” Malia agreed.</p><p>Stiles wasn’t happy to hear her say that. They already liked Marisol, if they started to view Aurora as they did her, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to convince them to see the truth--whatever it turned out to be.</p><p>Turning to Malia, Scott asked, “Any idea what she’s talking about?”</p><p>Stiles looked at Scott and hunched his shoulders and raised his eyebrow, tired of asking aloud what was said.</p><p>Scott clarified, “Something about where their priorities lie, I didn’t catch it all.”</p><p>“Are we sure they’re not— .”</p><p>“For the last time Stiles, they aren’t working together!” Malia whispered harshly at him.</p><p>“Hey keep it down, she’s leaving!”</p><p>Scott and Stiles kept a close eye on Aurora,  watching as she made her way further down the street, then feeling guilty as they witnessed her having what should have been a private moment. Aurora stood on her own, arms wrapped around herself, and tears falling down her face. She clamped a hand to her mouth, and Scott could hear the sobs she was trying to muffle, followed by her repetition of three simple words: <i>Fermin, Marisol, Emy</i>. Scott wanted to console her. Maybe he could get out and try to pass it off as if he was just casually strolling by so he could go ask her what was wrong. She couldn’t have truly felt that strong about breaking things off with Peter, could she?</p><p>Malia however kept her eyes on Peter who hadn’t moved, arms resting on the table and face stoic and calm. He waved down the waitress, who shamelessly threw herself at him, no doubt having witnessed Aurora running out on him. Malia wanted to gag at how forward the woman was being, but was thankful Peter ignored her advances and repeated that all he wished for was the check.</p><p>Stiles wondered aloud, “Why is she doing that?”</p><p>Malia looked over to see Aurora who was pacing and counting to herself in French as she touched her thumbs to each finger tip. She recognized her behavior, having once seen Marisol do something similar before and realized the gravity of what Aurora was going through. She glanced back to Peter and did a double take-- Malia could have sworn Peter had been looking right at her, <i>at them</i>, but now he was engaged with the waitress, giving her his card. Had he known they had been here the whole time?</p><p>The three of them sat quietly in Stiles’s jeep as a car slowly pulled up to where Aurora sat waiting. An older man’s voice with an accent called from the car's window and the kids assumed she had called a Lyft instead of Marisol because she wanted some privacy--the same privacy they had stolen from her just a few minutes ago. Too concerned with the driver, none of them noticed that Peter had left the restaurant and was currently walking right towards them, a menacing look on his face. He smirked to himself as stood right outside the passenger’s open window, the three still immersed in making sure Aurora got into the car okay.</p><p>“Hello boys. Malia. What brings you three out tonight?”</p><p>Stiles let out a short yelp and fell backwards back into his seat, a hand clutched over his chest.</p><p>“What do you want Peter?” Scott growled at him.</p><p>“I want to know why three teenagers felt the need to follow me on a date? Or was it Aurora you were following?” He caught the scent of embarrassment that washed over them at having been caught, despite how hard they worked to hold their composure. “I see you’ve grown quite attached to the new girl...You must have if you’re willing to follow her cousin around on a Friday night because you think she needs protecting.”</p><p>“Same could be said of you and Aurora.” Malia spat at him. “By the way you were acting in there, someone could swear you actually had real human feelings.”</p><p>
Peter clenched his jaw, “So you came for the show. Was it to your satisfaction?”</p><p>“What did you expect? Villain’s don’t get happy endings.” Stiles said.</p><p>Peter took a step back, as if he had been slapped, and let out a wry chuckle--so this is what they truly thought of him, even his own daughter. He looked at each one--Stiles, Scott, and Malia, sighed defeatedly and turned to walk away.</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell her that you didn’t even know about me till a few months ago?” Malia asked after him, catching him off guard and with his back turned. “Or were you just too afraid it was going to show her who you really are?”</p><p>Peter looked back at his daughter, an unfamiliar expression written on his face, “I meant what I told Aurora...but just because I didn’t know doesn’t excuse my negligence...”</p><p>With that he turned away, not wanting to see the look of anger overtaking his daughter’s eyes. She might not believe what he had to say, and maybe he’d just lost the only woman who would have ever really cared about him, but he was certain about one thing--he needed to start making a change.</p><p>By the time he reached his car the teenagers had driven off and he was left alone with his thoughts as he drove home. He shouldn’t have stayed in town, he should have grabbed his money and run as he originally planned to do, life would have been a lot easier if he had. Yet, he stayed because maybe what he’d said <i>was</i> true--maybe he’d meant it. He wanted to be a better man, a better uncle (if any of his leads came up with something on his wayward nephew), and most importantly, a better father. He’d been so consumed in wanting more than what he had--always wanting more strength, more power--he’d never really thought about what it was he needed. He still wanted power, of course, but he couldn’t fight the feeling that maybe he wanted--needed--something else. A family? A friend? Someone to love him that he could genuinely love back? He shook his head, trying hard to get these uncharacteristic thoughts out of his head. Had finding out he had a daughter and experiencing the potential of love really changed him that much?</p><p>When he finally got to his apartment, he could sense something was wrong. Gone were the thoughts that hounded his brain earlier, instead, all his focus was on the shift in the energy surrounding him. The atmosphere was heavy, and every hair on his arm stood tall--a warning sign only a fool would ignore. Looking around he found himself alone in the parking lot. The entire complex was dark, something he should have noticed before he even pulled into it--this complex was never dark, always lit up by streetlights, and apartments that had their lights on until the early morning. By the time he chose to react, turning back to his car in a hurry to turn it on and rush out, it was too late. The sky above him lit, illuminating his surroundings as lightning struck heavy before him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, we wanted to just say a few things. When we first started writing, part of the reason was because one of us had some ~feelings~ for Peter and in the time since we first came up with a concept to now, well, those feelings have changed. <br/>It all started when we created some characters that were just supposed to be throw away, to give some backstory to our girls Aurora and Marisol. And then those characters took on a life of their own, the charming and beautiful Fermin, the lovable and beautiful Tomas, and the stubborn and beautiful Canelo.<br/>There are some other circumstances, but we thought best not share those yet, there is still some mystery to be resolved!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Chapter Twenty Seven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Second verse, slightly different from the first.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<i>Shit</i>.” Aurora breathed out. He’d figured her out, and by the look on his face, everything she had been told seemed to be true--he wasn’t even trying to deny it, he was just looking at her, a smirk condescending plastered on his face.</p><p>“Now, what <i>exactly</i> did they tell you?” Peter asked, his smile fading behind the emotionless indifference he allowed to fall over his face--always hiding behind his facade of not caring. He was curious what was going on in her mind, though he didn’t dare let it show. What would she do next? Would she try to laugh it off or was she coming up with a sweet lie to pacify him? He was starting to grow impatient the longer she avoided his eyes, her gaze focused on the wine she was swishing around in her glass. When she finally did respond, it wasn’t what he had expected.</p><p>“I didn’t want to believe it.” Aurora confessed, speaking softly, her voice strained as she tried to contain the sadness that was creeping up from her heart to her throat. “And if I’m being honest, I think I could’ve really learned to like you, it’s been awhile since a man’s shown me a wonderful time.”</p><p>Both of them sat there quietly, unsure of what else there was to say, or how the evening should proceed. Peter looked at her with a hopeful need, which fed into her doubts from before. She didn’t understand why she found it so hard to see the man she’d come to know, the one now sat across from her, as the same man who committed all the atrocities Deaton spoke of. She smiled softly at him, or at least tried to. </p><p>“It’s hard not to listen when one of the teenagers who was most insistent was your own daughter.” She continued before Peter had a chance to break the silence. She may have a small seed of doubt buried inside her, but she now knew better than to trust it. Here right now, was the man she had been warned of, no matter how convincing the sadness in his eyes was. </p><p>“Aurora, you <i>know</i> me. <i>Trust</i> me. I am trying to do better, to be better. Do you think I’d open myself up like I have to just anyone?” Peter resisted the urge to look out the window over to where he knew Stiles’s blue jeep was parked, knowing that if his daughter was listening in, maybe she’d believe him too. But sitting here with Aurora, he wished for at least her to believe him, and maybe allow him to take her somewhere where he could explain himself in private.</p><p>“And that’s it? That’s all you’ll give me to go on--honeyed words and promises? You think I haven’t heard those before?” Aurora hated the emotion that had crept up her throat and caused her voice to crack, but she couldn’t help it. She had invested time in him, she’d given him affection and care--she’d even imagined a life with him, something she had only reserved for one other man. “You know what’s funny? The only thing I learned from those kids was that it would be wise to stay away from you--no specifics, no explanations. But it was you that proved to me that they were right.”</p><p>Peter’s expressionless face slipped and the shock could be read all over it. He couldn’t believe it, he’d given himself away all on his own. He should have known better than to think the kids would tell a human any of the things he’d actually done--they wouldn’t risk exposing themselves, or worse yet, endanger their <i>dear new friend</i>.  He could only sit there and watch as Aurora began collecting her jacket and purse, her face exuding something between anger and pain, and her eyes, looking anywhere but at him.  His focus drifted away from her for a moment, honing in on the three teenagers outside. Stiles was whining as usual, no doubt to Scott, but the third heartbeat was elevated, beating heavily against the chest of his daughter--his own daughter, who despised him enough to follow him on a date. </p><p>Aurora couldn’t say she was surprised when he didn’t ask her to stay, to hear him out, but she knew he was a prideful man. Without another word she turned to leave, but stopped suddenly, thinking about Malia who was sitting outside with the two others listening in. She’d heard everything the two had talked about, and Aurora knew the pain she would feel at hearing her own father’s deceitful words. She debated quickly with herself, deciding to face Peter one last time. “Actions speak louder than words, right? So show that you are better--that you <i>can</i> be better... I don’t know if <i>I</i> can give you a second chance, but think of what we talked about a few days ago. You know where my priorities lie, what about yours?”</p><p>With nothing else left to say, she walked away smiling and thanking the hostess as she made her way out the door. She waited until she was finally outside before she allowed the tears she had been holding back to silently fall, waiting until she was a few feet away before she finally let out a loud sob. She slapped a hand over her mouth to try and muffle the noise, but knew that wouldn’t stop her from being heard by those with heightened senses. Trying to calm herself down, Aurora took the steps she learned from her alpha to calm herself down, and when that didn’t work, she tried repeating the mantra Marisol had taught her. <i>Fermin. Marisol. Emy. Fermin. Marisol. Emy. Fermin. Marisol. Emy</i>. It wasn’t working. Furiously wiping her tears away she ordered a ride and hoped it arrived soon as she sat down on the ledge of a planter box.</p><p>Unable to sit still without her mind reeling, Aurora opened her phone back up, letting her hands' memory take over, and found herself looking at photos from when they were in Florida. A lot of the photos were of herself and Marisol, most of them from the adventures Fermin would take them on when he was determined to show them what life in Florida was really like. And then there were the photos of just the two of them--her and Fermin, during the few weekends they were able to get away on some romantic trip. In a moment of impulse she went to her contacts, landing on Fermin’s number, her thumb hovering over the call button, the temptation to press it slowly overpowering her. Her phone chirped, letting her know her driver had arrived and saving her from the long put-off conversation she was just about to throw herself into. </p><p>When Aurora finally got home she found Marisol on the couch, Emy curled in her lap kneading away at a blanket and purring loudly as they both watched TV. Marisol turned to look at her expectantly, then upon seeing her tear streaked face, walked over to engulf her in a tight hug--clearly she must have looked worse than she thought she did.  </p><p>“It’s done.” Aurora said, untangling herself from Marisol’s embrace and hanging her coat up in the closet before walking over to plop down onto the couch next to Emy. </p><p>“How’d it go?” Marisol asked, making her way to sit next to Aurora, scooping up the cat back onto her lap. </p><p>“I...I don’t...know...fine I suppose” Aurora shrugged off the question, stretching her feet out in front of her and closing her eyes, trying to keep herself from hyper fixating on the events of the evening. </p><p>“Ro? Are you okay?” Marisol asked quietly. </p><p>Aurora let out a short hum, rolling her head to face Marisol, her eyes still closed as she contemplated how to answer. She inhaled sharply, letting out a deep sigh before she finally opened her eyes. “I saw your friends there. Well, actually, I heard them. Pretty sure they were there to spy on me...or maybe Peter...probably both. You haven’t said anything that would make them suspicious, right?”</p><p>This was news to Marisol. Kira hadn’t told her anything about the pack staking out Aurora’s date, and none of the others had even mentioned knowing about it when they hung out at school. “I don’t think I did...who was there?”</p><p>“Scott and the one you think is cute.” Aurora responded nonchalantly, reaching out to scratch Emy behind the ears and smiling when the cat chirped at her. </p><p>“Oh...Malia?” Marisol questioned, frowning at the thought. </p><p>“Uhhhmmmm...” Aurora feigned like she was trying to remember, hoping Marisol would fall into her trap and pleased with herself when the girl uttered her next words.</p><p>“Or maybe it was Stiles?” Marisol, frowned deeper at this thought, knowing that Stiles hadn’t exactly been her biggest fan and sure that he wouldn’t be Aurora’s biggest fan either. Suddenly she realized what she’d done when Aurora smiled in triumph at her slip of the tongue. She glared at her friend who was laughing softly, teasing her to no end about the various crushes that had slowly been developing. Marisol chose to rise about it and ignore her, knowing this was mostly coming from a need to direct her attention elsewhere--it hadn’t gone unnoticed that Aurora had dodged her previous question.</p><p>“Both of them were there actually, along with Scott. Honestly, it was pretty distracting hearing the three of them bickering all while trying to pretend I can’t hear them.” Aurora complained lightheartedly, when suddenly all the heavy emotions from earlier that night began to stir inside her once again. </p><p>Marisol could feel the tension in the air shift and looked at her friend worryingly, “Ro...?”</p><p>Aurora stood up abruptly, letting out a loud sigh before she answered. “I’m fine Mari...It’s just been a long day.”</p><p>Placing a kiss on the top of her head and wishing her a goodnight, Aurora retreated up to her room, hoping to put all thoughts of tonight out of her head and dreading what was probably going to be a restless night in bed. </p><p><i>I wonder if he's awake</i>. Aurora found her thoughts slipping back to her memories of Fermin, feeling overwhelmed by the temptation to call him, even if just to hear his voice. She smirked at the thought of sending Fermin the typical “U up?” text, but thought that might not be the best way to say ‘hi’ after the way their last conversation had gone. </p><p>She sat up and grabbed her phone, finally accepting that she wasn’t going to get any rest that night. Her phone opened to a photo of him, his beautiful face smiling up at her and she realized she had never exited from her photo album, and while earlier the pictures of him had brought her a sense of calm, now they only brought a wave of emotions crashing over her. So much she had lost in just the last few years, so much she’d sacrificed--continued to sacrifice. The same pain from earlier overtook her, only this time it was laced with a delicate sense of guilt and longing. </p><p>She went to pull up her messages, opening their last conversation and scrolling through it until she came to the start. It had started pretty much the same as all their conversations, a couple of <i>I miss you</i>s and short updates on what they had been up to. This was right after Aurora and Marisol had finally moved into the house, and in her excitement, Aurora had sent Fermin multiple pictures of their new home--a place she could finally call her own. He’d expressed happiness for her, even going so far as to remind her that he’d been the one to push her to move forward. And yet, behind his joy, she could hear the question he longed to ask but would never ask her--<i>what about me?</i></p><p>When they’d left Florida, Aurora had broken things off with him, leaving it on a hopeful note and promising that once she found what she was looking for, she would come back for him--that they would finally be a family. And now she’d found it and Fermin was still thousands of miles away, waiting for her. </p><p>“You are always welcome to come visit…” Aurora had told him, hoping the invitation was enough to make him forgive her for leaving so abruptly and for leaving him behind. She’d thought about keeping the relationship alive--long distance could have worked if their love and passion was anything to go on. But the truth was, Aurora wasn’t ready then, and even now she doubted herself and her commitment. When he’d called her that same day, she’d found herself forced to mention she’d met someone--she wasn’t sure she could love him, but it was new and exciting and she didn’t know what that meant for them. He’d said he understood--<i>it’s like that Luis Miguel song, except I’ll be right here waiting for you</i>.</p><p>Aurora had listened to that song on repeat for a week after their talk, guilt eating away at her whenever she began to imagine a future with someone else, and her thoughts always drifting back to the feeling of Fermin’s lips against hers--of his arms around her waist. And now she found herself betrayed and alone. </p><p>Her eyes landed on the last text she had received from Fermin after they had hung up: </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><i>Whenever you are ready my love, I will be here</i>.</p>
</blockquote><p>Without a second thought she called him. She waited patiently as the phone rang, finally going to voicemail and she wondered whether she should just hang up--voicemail could be a sign that this is a mistake. But before she had the chance, the phone beeped and her mouth blurted out the first words she could think of. </p><p>“I miss you…” she paused, unsure of what to say next, or why she was even really calling. She was in pain and she needed his reassurance, but more than that, she needed to know if he still loved her and if he would forgive her even now.  “I know...it’s been a while...last time we’d talked, me and Mari had barely settled in and life was barely getting started and I...um...we’ve made some friends! Well, really Mari has--you know her, always the loveable type...and Emerson, she’s well...still a cat. But she seems to like it here. And I…” </p><p>Aurora hesitated, cursing herself for rambling on and on. Why couldn’t she just tell him the truth? Why was she feeling so distant and confused? Had one man really meant that much to her, that now a wedge had been driven between her and her only love? </p><p>“Fermin...I’m...I think I’m ready.” She paused again, holding in the sob that was building in her chest. “We’ve missed you and we love you--I, I love you. And I’m ready...I’m ready.” She had barely managed to spit out the last few words when the voicemail suddenly cut her off, leaving her in the somber quiet that lingered around her room. </p><p>Her hands shook as she placed her phone back on the nightstand, making sure the sound was on in case he called her back. She slumped back into her bed, cradling herself as she curled into the fetal position trying to contain the sobs that begged for release. She didn’t want to alert Marisol--the poor girl barely got enough sleep as it was, she didn’t need to be the reason she stayed up. Plus it was <i>her</i> job to take care of the girl, not the other way around. She continued to silently cry--the floodgates had opened and there would be no stopping until she had released every emotion she had ever bottled up. </p><p>Aurora tried her best to clear her mind in order to fall asleep, knowing that if she continued this way she’d be exhausted in the morning, and the two had already made plans they couldn’t cancel. A shopping day with Lydia sounded less enticing as it had a few days ago, when she was confident that breaking up with Peter would have little to no effect on her. But now she wondered if there was any way the girls would go without her. Her mind focused on what the day would look like, Aurora was finally able to drift off into a deep sleep--so much so, she hadn’t noticed when Marisol snuck into her room and crawled in next to her. </p><p>The girl had gone to bed shortly after Aurora, but like many nights before sleep evaded her, and after hearing the teary voicemail Aurora had left on Fermin’s voicemail, she knew she had to go to her. Knowing Aurora would try to shoo her away if she went to the room right away, Marisol waited until her muffled sobs started to slow and her breathing started to settle before she crept across the hall and into the room. </p><p>Aurora finally roused, as she felt the careful shuffle of Marisol moving closer to her, placing a warm hand on her back and rubbing gentle circles into it. She sighed and reached out for Marisol’s other hand, clutching it tightly, finally comforted by the love of the family she <i>did</i> have. </p><p>“What time is it?” Aurora asked, quietly. She sensed that morning was near even though there wasn’t even a hint of dawn coming through their window. </p><p>“I’m not sure, but it’s early.”</p><p>“Sorry.”</p><p>“You have nothing to be sorry for Ro.” Marisol wrapped her arms around Aurora tightly as her body began to shudder with the effort of silencing her cries. Eased by the warm coming off of Marisol, Aurora was able to drift back into sleep, joined by the girl shortly after. </p><p>It had only been a few hours before Aurora’s alarm went off, jarring them awake. Marisol groaned and tried to ignore the sounds of Tegan and Sara’s “Closer”, burying her head further into the pillows and closing her eyes tightly in an effort to also block out the sun that was shining brightly through the room. Once Aurora managed to hit snooze, she sat up, rubbing at her eyes and stretching her limbs while prodding Marisol to wake up.</p><p>“It can’t be time already,” Marisol exclaimed, muffled by the pillow.</p><p>Aurora laughed, her voice deep and husky with sleep. Taking the pillow from behind her, she used it to smack Marisol over the head, earning a grunt from the girl and succeeding in making her turn over. Aurora shifted to the edge and stood up, stretching her arms high and relishing in the pops of her joints.</p><p>“Mmmm, crunchy.” Marisol commented.</p><p>“That’s what happens when you get older.” Aurora responded, making her way over to her dresser.</p><p>“Did you just call yourself old?”</p><p>“Aye, we’re getting old, Gandalf.” Aurora quoted, only to be hit in the back of the head with a pillow.</p><p>“My ass, you’re not even thirty!” Marisol said as she sat up herself. </p><p>“Man, I’m exhausted. Do we really have to go to this thing?” Aurora turned to look at Marisol who was now attempting to crawl out of the bed, but failing miserably.</p><p>“Unfortunately, yes. Lydia doesn’t really take no for an answer…” Marisol started to strip the bed to make it.</p><p>“Hey…” Aurora hesitated, feeling embarrassed about her crying last night, but also hazy about why she’d had a bad spell in the first place. “I’m sorry...I don’t know what came over me last night...one second I was...I don’t even know, but suddenly, I was calling Fermin and telling him I loved him and it all...just came pouring out.”</p><p>“It’s okay.” Marisol assured her as she pulled the comforter onto the bed and smoothed it out. “It had been a while since you’d cried like that…”</p><p>“Yeah… to be honest...I’m not even sure what that was about?” Aurora frowned, trying to remember what it was that had driven her to feeling so isolated and alone. “What did I even do yesterday?” </p><p>“You went to dinner at that fancy Italian place downtown, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, but...yeah I remember that but…” Aurora paused, trying to recollect any memories of the previous night but finding that anything she <i>could</i> remember was blurry. “Was I with someone?”</p><p>“Not that I can remember?” Marisol said casually, seemingly unbothered by the same confusion Aurora was experiencing. “I mean I would hope not, since you didn’t even mention it to me...pfff you go on a hot date without telling me???!”</p><p>Aurora shook her head at the girl’s sass, momentarily distracted from her apparent memory loss. “Nooooo. Of course not. I must have overdone it on the pasta.”</p><p>“Eh, wouldn’t be the first time.” Marisol finished making the bed and started to head out the door. “I’ll go get the coffee started, we’re going to need it later.”</p><p>“Oh come on, how bad can shopping with Lydia really be?” Aurora called after her, feeling a sudden anxiety come over her when Marisol’s only response was raised eyebrows and a shrug. <i>Man, this is going to be a long day</i>.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Chapter Twenty Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yup, Aurora finds out just what it means to go shopping with Lydia.</p>
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    <p>It had been two hours. In those two hours, Aurora had learned just what it meant to go shopping with Lydia--though she should have realized that after walking through the same store twice without picking up any merchandise, that they were in this for the long run. They had spent almost the entirety of the two hours in the same store, locked inside the changing stalls while Lydia bombarded them with garment after garment. She was a force to be reckoned with, but at least she had great taste--Aurora fell in love with almost everything and was finding it hard to say no to anything that was tossed her way--Lydia even talked her into getting at least one romper.</p><p>When Lydia left the changing rooms to find them new options to try on, Marisol took it as an opportunity to confront Aurora on their budget for the day, concerned with the amount of items she and Aurora had added to their “buy” pile. “Are you sure we can afford this?”</p><p>“Yes, I’m sure! Now stop looking at the price tags!” Aurora answered back, her voice strained as she was trying to figure her way into a complicated party dress. “Besides, now that we don’t have to worry about moving, I think it’s about time we start filling up our closets! You know, treat ourselves!”</p><p>“That’s the attitude ladies! Now I have a few more items for you and then you’re free to leave the changing room.” Lydia said, having snuck her way back over to them while the girls argued over their spending.</p><p>“Oh thank god.” Marisol exclaimed, pulling on a sweater that Lydia had just thrown over the stall.</p><p>“Then it’s time for shoes.”</p><p>Aurora and Lydia laughed at the resounding moan that came from Marisol’s stall.</p><p>An hour later the girls found themselves at the food court, taking up a whole table by just themselves and their bags. Lydia couldn’t help but stare as she watched Aurora and Marisol scarf down their sushi rolls, each having ordered three rolls for themselves as well as plenty of appetizers. She looked over at Marisol and wondered where the heck she was packing it all, then remembered Stiles’s suspicions from the other night. There were only a few other people she had seen pack in so much food in so short of time and all of them were, unsurprisingly, of the supernatural family. It wasn’t much to go on, but if Lydia was anything, it was inquisitive, and even the smallest of clues was something to explore.</p><p>“We didn’t really eat this morning, kinda slept in and had to rush to get ready.” Aurora explained, noticing the look written on Lydia’s face and realizing the two of them were probably a sight to behold--having gone through all their rolls in less than ten minutes. And yet, Aurora could still feel an emptiness in her stomach. She turned to Marisol, “I could actually use a bit more. You?”</p><p>Marisol stood up quickly nearly knocking her chair over in the moment, “Yes! Lydia, you want anything else?”</p><p>“Actually, I wouldn’t mind a milk tea, please.” Lydia took advantage of her friend leaving, thinking this would give her a few minutes alone to question Aurora and try to dig up some information that would hopefully disprove any of Stiles’s concerns.</p><p>“You got it! Ro?”</p><p>“Oh yes, same, extra boba for me! And a philly roll please!” Aurora dug into her bag and handed Marisol her debit card, before turning back to finish what was left of their appetizers. She wondered if she should leave a few gyoza for when Marisol came back, but decided against it--<i>you snooze, you lose</i>.</p><p>Lydia ate a few of her rolls, allowing a few moments of silence to pass between them as Marisol walked away, not wanting to seem eager to pry into their personal lives. If what Stiles had found was all true, then it was entirely possible that the two girls were somehow aware of the supernatural, and even worse, aware of <i>them</i> being supernatural. And while that didn’t exactly mean they were dangerous, it definitely meant they had lied. After about three full minutes of an awkward silence, she decided to finally speak up. </p><p>“So...how does Beacon Hills compare to Delaware?”</p><p>Aurora gave Lydia a once over. She’d never let Marisol know, but when Scott, Malia and Stiles had followed her yesterday, she’d been worried that perhaps they hadn’t been as careful as they could have about concealing their true identity. Or maybe she’d just handled the whole situation wrong--waited too long to properly introduce themselves to the McCall pack, kept too much a secret for too long. She decided to be as honest as possible in answering Lydia’s questions. This way it would feel less like they were lying and maybe she’d be able to sense whether Lydia was on to them or not. “Out of all the places we’ve been, it’s the closest to feeling like home. It’s small, quiet, peaceful...and Marisol seems to like it. Although, if I’m being honest, Washington is a close second for me, though I don’t think Marisol would have been happy there in the long run.”</p><p>“Is that where you worked on a boat?” Lydia remembered Marisol mentioning how she’d lived and worked on a fishing boat for the greater part of two months, and how she had never been around so many lesbians in her life. Contrary to what Aurora was saying now, Lydia got the impression that Marisol enjoyed the time they’d spent there.</p><p>“Yeah! It’s definitely in the top 3 greatest experiences of my life so far! I don’t think anything compares to looking out in each direction and seeing nothing but the horizon--it just really reminds you of how small you are in such a big world.... Also nothing beats the rocking of a boat to lull you to sleep.” Aurora knew she was probably rambling, but she couldn’t help herself from going on about the short time they spent in Washington. “Plus, the entire community was really great and welcoming--a little meddlesome at times, but they meant well. There was an older woman, Maria, who was kind enough to watch Marisol when I would be out to sea longer than a day. She was relentless in her attempts to set me up with every available man and woman, but honestly, that was a small price to pay for the experience as a whole.”</p><p>“Why did you leave if you loved it so much?” Lydia asked, once Aurora had finally finished filling her in on all their adventures on a fishing boat.</p><p>“I made a promise...” Aurora’s smile faded a little, and she found herself at a loss for what else to say. How could she explain to anyone that she’d continuously sacrificed her own happiness for the sake of her only family? She wasn’t about to open up about all that to a teenager she hardly knew--much less in such a public area. She kept her hands busy by playing with her chopsticks, trying to pick up a grain of rice that had fallen into her pool of soy sauce, avoiding Lydia’s intense stare. “I promised Marisol’s parents I would do what was best for her...right before they...passed.”</p><p><i>Oh</i>. Lydia looked over to see that Marisol had moved up in line, making her the next in line to order. If what Kira had told them was even remotely true, then Lydia was finally grasping the severity of the cousins’ situation. They had lost everything, and any time they found something new and promising, they had to move onto the next one. Marisol seemed happy here in Beacon Hills, and based on their conversations, she’d been happy in every home before this one. It dawned on Lydia that maybe Aurora was trying to overcompensate for not feeling like enough family for Marisol--it didn’t matter where they went, Aurora would always find an excuse for why it wasn’t good enough for her cousin--why <i>she</i> wasn’t good enough for her cousin.</p><p>She watched as Aurora continued to fidget with her chopsticks and decided that maybe now was the time to change the subject. “How many more times do you think we can reasonably get Marisol to enter a changing room?”</p><p>“Oh, I imagine with the right persuasion, at least two more.” Aurora responded with a smirk, thankful for the shift in conversation.</p><p>“I guess that will do... We just have to make sure we have time to stop at Sephora before we leave, you need new supplies. I bet I could even convince Marisol to pick a few things out!” Lydia smiled, already scheming on how she’d get Marisol to agree to buy at least some eyeliner.</p><p>“Good luck with that!” Aurora snorted, knowing her cousin better than that--Marisol had stopped wearing makeup after they’d left Washington, her self-esteem boosted by the various lesbian women who had decided they had to be her temporary mom while the two of them lived there.</p><p>With that, the conversation fell into a lull, leaving them to sit in a comfortable silence as Lydia finished her meal while Aurora went through her phone, checking for any notifications. Lydia took the time to go over the intel she’d gathered during their short conversation and wondered if there was anything else she could ask so she could gain some more perspective on her new friend--it seemed that while Aurora was always trying to find happiness for Marisol, Marisol was always busy trying to bring happiness to those around her. Then she remembered their conversation from the night they’d gone bowling, when Marisol mentioned perhaps the one time she was tempted to put her happiness first.</p><p>“I hope you don’t mind me asking... ‘ Lydia started, hesitantly. “But...who exactly is Tomas?”</p><p>“Ohohohoho!” Aurora let out a sly yet hearty chuckle, her face lighting up at the mention of that name. “Tomas... He’s a <i>friend</i> we made in LA. Worked as a barber in his uncle’s shop, and he was pretty damn good at it--he almost convinced me to let him give me a fade when I was debating cutting my hair short... He’s a good boy, and between you and me...I was rooting for the kid.”</p><p>Lydia giggled when Aurora winked just as Marisol was making her way over to them. She plopped down on one of the chairs and unloaded her arms, passing out drinks and Aurora’s extra sushi roll, “So, what are we talking about?”</p><p>Aurora placed an arm on the back of Marisol’s chair and leaned in with a smirk, “Just talking about our <i>favorite</i> barber.”</p><p>Marisol rolled her eyes and gave them an unamused expression which only caused Aurora and Lydia to lose themselves in another fit of giggles. “You couldn’t have talked about, I don’t know, <i>your</i> past conquests?”</p><p>“And miss out on teasing you? No way!”</p><p>Marisol ignored Aurora’s cheekiness, choosing instead to happily sip on her soda and check her phone, while Aurora took her time enjoying her sushi roll. They’d fallen into a comfortable silence again, each lost in their own thoughts and activities, and Marisol secretly wondering if this meant that they were ready to go back home. Lydia, on the other hand, was starting to feel pressure from the pack to ask more questions and gather more information on the two--the group chat was going off with suggestions of what she should ask and how she should ask. Malia’s suggestion was to be upfront and bold, while Scott was with Kira on taking a cautious and gentle approach. Stiles had been quiet, which Lydia couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or a curse. She couldn’t focus with the messages coming one right after the other, so she chose to silence her phone and put it away--right after she’d sent a message threatening everyone to <i>shut it, or else</i>.</p><p>“So what's next?” Marisol asked, hopeful that the answer would be “home”.</p><p>“Depends. Are you up for another round or two of trying on clothes?” Aurora asked, mischievously. </p><p>Marisol thought about it, looking from Aurora to Lydia and seeing the encouragement written on their faces. In truth, she wanted to curl up on her bed and take a much needed 5 hour nap, but even she had to admit that she was enjoying spending quality time with Lydia and Aurora. It reminded her of the few times they had allowed themselves to be free in their previous homes: parties with Fermin’s pack, learning how to dance; bonfires with the Yellowstone pack, swapping stories and secrets with everyone; potlucks with Carmen’s pack, Canelo on the guitar and Tomas at her side, pulling her onto the dance floor. It was times like this one and all those that had come before it that she felt at ease, the normalcy of it all giving her a sense of comfort and making her feel, well, normal. “Okay, one more round. Maaaaaybe two if you promise to buy me a Cinnabon!”</p><p>Lydia was happy to hear that, “Done!”</p><p>---------------------------------</p><p>Lydia felt she deserved a small pat on the back and was even tempted to give herself one. Not only did Marisol agree to go another two rounds of clothes shopping, but she’d even convinced her to buy a few items of makeup. Just three shades of lipstick, but it was a start.</p><p>They were on the drive back home, Lydia driving and Aurora in the passenger’s seat, while Marisol sat quietly in the back struggling to keep her eyes open. It was another three hours before they’d finally decided they were done for the day, loading up all their bags into the trunk of the car and slamming it shut in order to hold everything in (Marisol even had to ride with some purchases in the back seat). It’d been a successful shopping day and now that the sun was starting to set, Aurora was looking forward to soaking in a warm bath for the rest of the night, but not before she obsessively went through all of her messages. She’d avoided looking through her phone after their lunch break, but was anxious for a response. Had Fermin heard her message? Had she said the wrong thing? It was unlike him not to respond and Aurora’s mind was reeling with all the possible reasons he would have for not calling--all of them worse than the previous thought, and each one somehow her fault.</p><p>Lydia was humming along to the radio, while Aurora tried to distract herself by looking out the window. They’d been quiet for a good while and she suspected that the silence from Marisol meant she’d probably fallen asleep.</p><p>“Is she out yet?” Aurora asked quietly, still gazing out her window, feeling the cool breeze against her cheeks.</p><p>“Almost.” Lydia responded just as quietly, taking a look at Marisol through the rearview mirror and smiling at how the girl’s head kept bobbing up and down as she tried her hardest to remain conscious. It didn’t take long before Aurora heard Marisol's breathing even out, and turning back to check on her, she chuckled at the sight of her with her head back and mouth open.</p><p>Lydia merged onto 101 South, pleased to find there were hardly any cars on the road,   “Looks like we beat traffic after all. We should be home soon, thankfully.”</p><p>“Perfect!” Aurora let out a loud sigh. “No offence, but I’m exhausted and would like nothing more than to take a bath and stuff my face with take out.” Aurora pulled out her phone and started tapping away, making the executive decision to order Thai.</p><p>“No worries. Trust me, I get it.” Lydia let out something between a sigh and a laugh. “I’ve been known to overwhelm friends on shopping trips.”</p><p>“Oh. Do you take the other girls out shopping often?”</p><p>“No, actually.” Lydia frowned. “They refuse to go out with me--especially Malia. Last time I really went shopping it was with my friend...Allison.”</p><p>Aurora didn’t miss the way Lydia’s mood switched so suddenly, or the way she suddenly became quiet after mentioning her friend. Against her better judgement, she asked, “Who is Allison? I don’t think Marisol has mentioned her…”</p><p>“Oh...no she’s...not around anymore.” Lydia, looked forward, pretending to be focused on the road before her, but Aurora could sense the sadness that engulfed her. “Anyway! Enough about me and shopping--let’s talk about <i>you</i> and shopping!”</p><p>“Huh?” Aurora gawked at her. “More shopping?”</p><p>“No silly! I mean, now that you’ve got yourself a whole new wardrobe, we gotta find places for you to flaunt yourself.”</p><p>“Flaunt myself?” Aurora scoffed, knowing well that while she wasn’t past putting herself out there, she wasn’t a fan of peacocking. “Hard pass.”</p><p>“What? You mean you don’t want to rock that tight little cocktail dress and find you a man?” Lydia insisted. “When’s the last time you even went out?”</p><p>“Uh, yesterday.” Aurora responded, matter-of-factly.</p><p>“With a man?” Lydia cocked an eyebrow at her.</p><p>“Well...no but, there were...men...<i>around</i>.”</p><p>“Exactly my point. You need to get yourself a hot date.”</p><p>“Eh…” Aurora hesitated, wondering if it was really in her best interest to tell a teenager something so personal. “I...think I’ll hold off on dating someone new for a while...I kinda got someone waiting for me.”</p><p>“Oh??” Lydia raised her eyebrows at her. “Is this like...a Marisol-Tomas situation? Or are we talking actual commitment?”</p><p>“Actual commitment….I think.”</p><p>“You think?”</p><p>“No. I <i>know</i>.” Aurora affirmed. Despite not having received a response from Fermin, she decided she knew better than to trust her anxiety--Fermin would call her back, and once they were reunited, all would be how it was supposed to be.</p><p>“Okay...well then wear your new clothes for him...or for yourself. Or both. I mean, I always dress for myself, but when you do that, you <i>know</i> there’s always someone watching.” Lydia smirked at her.</p><p>“Thank you, I will.” Aurora shook her head, chuckling at the girl’s assertive confidence.</p><p>When they finally pulled into Aurora and Marisol’s driveway, Aurora offered Lydia to join them for dinner before turning to wake Marisol from her nap. Lydia declined, saying something about how she had to finish a report for Biochem and Aurora shook her head in disbelief--<i>how did she still have energy after today</i>? She closed the trunk of the car and waved at her through the passenger’s side window, Marisol behind her, looking like a zombie but trying to wave nonetheless.</p><p>“Thank you for a fun day!”</p><p>“Anytime ladies!” With that she pulled out and drove away.</p><p>“Can we...maybe <i>not</i> do that for like...I dunno another two years.” Marisol commented as she walked through the front door, plopping her bags on the floor and making her way toward the couch.</p><p>“I dunno...I had fun.” Aurora laughed as she made her way to the stairs, ready to put her things away and take a long, hot bath.</p><p>“Just because it was fun...doesn’t mean we should do it again soon.” Marisol retorted, her voice muffled by the pillow she’d slammed her face into.</p><p>It couldn’t have been more than a minute or two later, when suddenly a loud banging came from the front door, waking Marisol from the sleep she had quickly slipped back into. She sat up suddenly, trying to take in her surroundings and get ahold of herself before she went to answer the door. As she stood, Aurora came bounding down the stairs, and a concerned look on her face.</p><p>“Who the hell can that be?”</p><p>“I don’t know?”</p><p>“Maybe Lydia forgot something.”</p><p>“I feel like Lydia would have rang the doorbell.” Marisol winced as another series of bangs came from the door. “YEAH, I’M COMING.”</p><p>Aurora moved closer to the door as Marisol made to open it, ready in case whoever was on the other side was dangerous, though hoping it was just one of the teenagers trying to get Marisol to go out for the night.</p><p>Marisol unlocked the door and turned the handle, her eyes going wide from shock as she took in the scene before her: Canelo and Tomas, covered in blood.</p><p>“Hey there, Chula.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Our bbs Tomas and Canelo have entered!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Chapter Twenty Nine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aurora and Marisol end up with more questions than answers from Canelo and Tomas.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Part One</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The words had barely left his mouth when Tomas toppled over falling through the doorway, barely held upright by Canelo’s arm wrapped around him.</p><p>“What happened?!” Aurora came rushing over, opening the door wide enough for Marisol to help lift Tomas from the floor and carry him over to the couch. The boy hung limp between Marisol and his cousin, Canelo, his face beaten and bruised, and his body covered in blood and deep slashes. Aurora’s eyes drifted to Canelo whose state wasn’t that much better than Tomas’s--one of his eyes was swollen shut, and while some of his wounds seemed to have mostly healed, he was still covered in cuts and blood. </p><p>Marisol directed Canelo over to the couch, helping him lie Tomas down and placing a pillow under his head for support. Neither had said anything since they walked through the door and Aurora’s growing confusion was frustrating her to no end. </p><p>“What. Happened.” She asked again, this time with more aggression in her words. They couldn’t just show up at her house, looking the way they did and not give her any answers. </p><p>“What happened?” Canelo asked, turning to look at her, squinting angrily at her through his one open eye. “What do you mean ‘what happened’? YOU happened?” </p><p>“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Aurora’s voice rose in anger, confused by the sudden accusation and offended by the rage she felt in Canelo’s words. “How does <i>you</i> showing up on <i>my</i> doorstep, covered in blood, have <i>anything</i> to do with me?” </p><p>“Uh-uh.” Canelo shook his head aggressively, taking a step toward Aurora and pointing a finger at her. “You don’t get to ask questions here. I <i>knew</i> the <i>second</i> you two showed up, looking all lost and begging for a chance--I <i>knew</i> there was something wrong about you.” </p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Aurora scoffed, exasperated by the young man’s assertion. </p><p>“You were there all of FOUR MONTHS!” Canelo held up three fingers for emphasis. “FOUR MONTHS! AND THEN YOU LEAVE AND THIS HAPPENS!” </p><p>He gestured toward Tomas, who was still slumped on their couch, blood soaked and wounded. Marisol had left for the kitchen, bringing back multiple damp towels and wiping Tomas down as carefully as she could, trying to clean up the blood she wasn’t sure was his or not. Aurora turned back to Canelo, who continued to glare at her in contempt. </p><p>“TELL ME! Tell me how this happened?” Canelo’s voice cracked and he tried to regain his composure, but Aurora saw through it. Here was a boy trying to play man the only way he knew how--yelling and screaming in her face until he got the answers he wanted. </p><p>“There’s <i>nothing</i> to tell you.” Aurora scowled at him. “We <i>didn’t</i> do <i>anything</i>.” </p><p>“Don’t lie to me!” Canelo yelled back at her, grabbing a pillow from the couch and throwing it across the room. Aurora growled in response, her eyes glowing a bright red as she bared her teeth at him. </p><p>“You be careful what you accuse me of boy.” She extracted her claws, growling deeper as she paced slowly toward him. “This is <i>my</i> house and you <i>will not</i> speak to me that way.” </p><p>Canelo extracted his claws and growled in response. “Try me.” </p><p>“STOP IT!” Marisol yelled from the other side of the room where she was kneeled at the side of the couch, wiping away at Tomas’s face. The two of them quickly turned to look at her, retracting their claws and reverting back to their human features. “He’s...he’s not healing.” </p><p>Canelo made his way over to her, placing a hand on Tomas’s head and giving him a once over. </p><p>“Why isn’t he healing?” Marisol asked, looking from Canelo to Aurora, who both seemed to be at a loss. They had both traveled the same distance, and while Canelo was almost fully healed, somehow Tomas looked worse than he had when they first left their home. </p><p>“I don’t know.” Canelo said quietly. “He’s been like this since we left...getting worse the further we go.” </p><p>Marisol frowned. “Canelo...What happened? Why did you leave?” </p><p>Canelo grimaced when he met her eyes. He was angry, resentful. They had brought this on them, he <i>knew it</i>--he’d known it the day they showed up, that they’d be nothing but trouble. And yet, when everything went to shit, they were the only ones he had thought of to help--the only ones who could possibly give them any answers. He turned away from her, still unable to distance himself from the anger he hoarded towards the girl. </p><p>“I don’t...I don’t know.” He ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply. “We were having a council meeting...we had to discuss what to do about the Armendariz family. What it meant for them and what it meant for us.”</p><p>Marisol and Aurora shared a look of confusion, but remained quiet, letting Canelo continue without interruption. </p><p>“Half of us wanted to help, the other half wanted to turn a blind eye. But nobody was worried about <i>why</i> it had happened--about why we were even there in the first place, discussing it.” He paused and took a deep breath, trying to get out all the words. “I’d spent the last few weeks collecting evidence that connected you two to what happened in Texas and the others before that. I’d planned to tell Carmen that night, bring it up to the council and see what they had to say about it--I’d even made a whole presentation for it.” </p><p>Marisol frowned at him, his back still turned to the two of them. What did he mean ‘what happened in Texas’? And how were they connected to any of that? They’d stayed in Texas no longer than 3 months, and the entire time they’d been there, they’d mostly kept to themselves--there hadn’t been any problems or complications that she could remember. How could they be connected to anything that happened there? </p><p>“Tomas was late.” Canelo sniffed loudly and the girls could tell it was to cover up the sadness building in his voice. “I swear that fucker’s always late to things, and somehow no one calls him out on it...He came straight up to me, said he had to talk to Carmen about some sketchy guy that’d followed him from home.” </p><p>Canelo paused. His hands curled into tight fists and pressed them into his eyes, trying to keep the visions that haunted him at bay, but to no avail. Even here, miles away from home, he could still hear the screams of his family as they went down--could still see them as they fell, ripped to shreds by their unknown enemy. </p><p>“That’s when it happened.” He looked up, his arms falling to his sides. “They broke the windows, throwing smoke bombs and then breaking the door down to attack...but it was all a trap...to lure us outside, where they waited...waited for all of us…</p><p>“We didn’t know that everyone else was already dead...or dying...and we were all next.” Canelo fell on the ground, finally breaking as his tears fell free and his sobs rang loud “They killed them all--all of them! GONE!” </p><p>Marisol wiped the tears that had started to fall from her eyes. She thought about everyone they had met: Carmen, who welcomed them into her home after hearing their story; Sra. Avalos, Tomas’s mom, who made her homemade meals every time she came by; Doña Chela, who always teased her and Tomas whenever they walked by her house. All of these people were gone--their family gone. And suddenly Marisol realized she knew exactly what he was going through--she and Aurora had gone through it two years prior. She knelt next to Canelo, placing her small hand on his shoulder and whispering, “I’m sorry.” </p><p>Canelo slapped her hand away roughly, causing Marisol to fall back. “Don’t touch me! This is ALL YOUR FAULT!” </p><p>Aurora couldn’t control her shift when she saw Canelo hit Marisol, instantly reverting to her wolf state and letting out a threatening growl as she jumped toward him. She was cut off by a sudden sound that came behind all of them--Tomas had started convulsing. </p><p>“What’s happening?!” Canelo yelled as he jumped up on his feet, rushing to his cousin’s side. </p><p>“He’s convulsing.” Aurora responded, hooking her arms under the boy and lifting him from the couch. “Marisol get me the first aid kit from under the kitchen sink and then get started on a <i>caldo</i>. Canelo, help me clear the guest bedroom--second room on the right upstairs.” </p><p>Aurora carried Tomas up the stairs, following Canelo into the bedroom as he stripped the sheets and propped the pillows for her to lay him on. The convulsions had calmed, but Tomas continued to twitch uncontrollably and Aurora worried they wouldn’t be able to get him to heal. </p><p>“Why is this happening? Why isn’t he healing?” Canelo paced the room, his head in his hands. </p><p>“What happened before you guys left?” Aurora looked toward Canelo, feeling uneasy by his sudden pacing and trying not to let his anxiety affect her. “What was the last thing that happened before you left?” </p><p>“I dunno man.” There was a desperation in Canelo’s voice as he tried to go through his memories, the pain still too fresh as he tried to recall all that they had seen. “He--he’d just killed some chick...I remember I pulled him back from something and he attacked me--he was blinded by rage.” </p><p>“Pulled him back from something?” Aurora asked, thread in her mouth as she attempted to start stitching Tomas up. “Pulled him from what?” </p><p>“I don't--” Canelo was crying again, slamming his hands against his head, when suddenly he stopped. “His mom…”</p><p>Aurora looked up at him, hands covered in the blood that still leaked from Tomas’s wounds. </p><p>“We both saw it, but he was on his way to her...she-she looked at him before she…” Canelo wiped his nose with his hand, trying to get a hold of himself. “After that we hid...went looking for Carmen.” </p><p>Aurora stopped her movements, glancing at Canelo who was now standing unnaturally still in the middle of the room. She knew what was coming next--she could see it in his eyes. They’d lost her, just like she’d lost Moira almost three years ago. And that was a pain you could not escape from. </p><p>“We watched her go down.” There was shame present in his voice. “She told us to go...looked straight at us and nodded...After that...I knew we had to come here.” </p><p>Marisol walked into the room before Aurora had the opportunity to ask for more information. She walked over to where Aurora sat on the bed, working away at Tomas’s wounds, hoping that sewing him up would kickstart his healing. </p><p>“There’s Thai food downstairs...if you guys are hungry…” Marisol said quietly. Aurora realized that in the commotion, she hadn’t had time to cancel her order from earlier and now the thought of food made her nauseous. She hadn’t even heard the doorbell ring and wondered if Mari had gone out to meet the driver after hearing them pull up, or if the tension in the room had just dulled her senses. </p><p>“No thank you, Mari...How’s that <i>caldo</i> coming along?” </p><p>“It’s going. Just added some veggies.” She took that as her cue to leave the room and made her way downstairs, glancing at Canelo who only glared back at her. 
</p><p>In the sudden quiet, Aurora focused on cleaning up Tomas’s wounds, placing a cold towel on his forehead and wondering if it was in moments such as these where people turned to prayer. She’d never been one for faith in God, but she remembered the night they left--how Marisol had laid her parents down and prayed as she shut their eyes and kissed them goodbye. She hadn’t heard the girl pray since then, but in this moment, she felt she understood why she had--they needed a miracle. </p><p>She took Tomas’s arm, taking a deep breath before she started to take his pain. She could feel his pain coursing through her as her veins took on that dark color--if she could just take enough of it, he might wake up. </p><p>“Don’t over do it.” A voice came from the door and Aurora turned to see Marisol standing there with two bowls in her hands. She walked over to Canelo, handing him one which he refused by shaking his head. “You need it. You’re going to need your strength for when he wakes up.” </p><p>Canelo looked down at the girl, meeting her eyes and took the bowl. She walked over to Aurora and placed the second bowl on the nightstand, sitting next to her as she watched Tomas’s breathing evening out. Some of the stitched wounds were beginning to fade--some growing smaller while others stayed the same. It seemed that both the stitches and Aurora’s trick had worked, but he was still knocked out--all that blood loss had caused unwanted damage. </p><p>“He won’t wake up unless he has a reason to.” Aurora said quietly. </p><p>“What do you mean?” Marisol asked, concerned. </p><p>“I mean...right now...he doesn’t <i>want</i> to get better. He doesn’t <i>want</i> to wake up.” </p><p>“What like, he just...wants to die?” Canelo asked. Aurora simply nodded at him, a solemn look on her face. “Now that’s...that’s just bullshit.” </p><p>With that he left the room, shaking his head as he went. Marisol made to go after him when Aurora held her back. “Let him…he needs some space right now.” </p><p>“He should be here when he wakes up...if...he wakes up.” </p><p>“He will.” Aurora said reassuringly, patting Marisol’s arm. “We just have to give him a reason to. Talk to Tomas.” </p><p>With that she left the room, wandering down to the kitchen in order to give the two some privacy. Marisol reached out to hold Tomas’s hand, gently running her fingers across his knuckles. Throughout their travels, there had only been four people who’d ever made her feel safe--out of all the ones they’d met. Aurora and Fermin were two of them--Tomas was the fourth one. He’d taken her in and shown her the beauty of his world, making her feel at home--feel like family. </p><p>“Tomas…” She whispered quietly, feeling a weight in her chest when he didn’t stir. “Tomas...it’s Mari.” </p><p>Silence prevailed in the room and Mari looked around, feeling unfit for the task that was handed to her. How was she supposed to give him a reason to live? Yeah, he’d been someone who’d become an important part of her life, but that didn’t mean she’d become that for him. </p><p>“Tomas...<i>es Mari</i>.” She tried again. This time, she went on, talking about how much she’d missed him, how even though she had new friends, she still wanted him to be around--how even though they’d moved to another city, her heart had stayed in LA, just like he had. She told him about all she and Aurora had left behind, how far they’d come and how, despite all the pain, all the trauma--it was worth it to still be around. She told him how she was glad she hadn’t died, because she wouldn’t have met him if she had--and how now he couldn’t die, because think of who he wouldn’t get to meet if he did. </p><p>She finally paused, reaching a hand up to stroke his face, brushing away the bloodied hair that still clung to his forehead. “<i>Despiértate Tomás…No nos dejes...Canelo--te necesita...yo...te necesito</i>.” </p><p>She leaned down slowly and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, willing him to open his eyes. When he didn’t, she felt her heart drop and fear envelop her. She thought about how much she’d lost, and how she couldn’t handle losing someone else. She thought about Canelo--Canelo who had nothing and no one left. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks and Marisol closed her eyes, pulling Tomas’s hand to her lips and kissing it softly as she started to pray--pray like she had for her parents. </p><p>Suddenly, “Oh shit...am I dead?”</p><p>Marisol’s head snapped up to see Tomas looking at her, a soft smile on his face. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Am I dead?” He asked again.</p><p>Marisol looked at him, confused. “...no?”</p><p>“Ohhh…” He smiled at her for real this time--a big toothy grin plastered on his face. “I thought I must have, when I woke up and saw an angel like you.” </p><p>Marisol let out a loud laugh mixed with a sob. “Oh my god.” </p><p>“That’s what I thought!” </p><p>Marisol shook her head at him, smiling softly. “I’m glad you’re alive.” </p><p>“Me too.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Holy Shit. Thirty Chapters. Also I apologize for the late post, but it is still Thursday, the 25th for us. 22:52 PST to be precise!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Chapter Thirty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aurora and Marisol get some shocking news.</p><p>Sadness. Maybe grab a tissue or two.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let's be honest, this is really just Chapter Twenty Nine Part Two.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Canelo had been sitting out on the front porch for a little over a half an hour. The night air was starting to cool, and he could smell the rain that was coming as the clouds began to settle above them. He could hear Aurora moving around in the kitchen, no doubt keeping an eye on him, but he still couldn’t bring himself to go inside--not until he knew everything was going to be okay.</p><p>He wasn’t a stranger to loss. When his parents were killed in a fatal car accident, he thought his world was ending, but even then, he’d had Tomas and his parents, Carmen and the rest of the pack. He’d had another family to support him, to help him through the darkest moments of his life, but now the only family he had left was barely holding onto life in the bedroom upstairs. Even though they were a few years apart, Canelo and Tomas had grown up together, and more than just a cousin, Canelo saw Tomas as his little brother. If he lost him, then he’d really have no one.</p><p>How were they supposed to move forward from this? Where were they supposed to go? He felt lost, and even though he’d always felt cast aside by his pack, it was the first time he felt truly alone--everyone he had once loved and respected had been taken from him, and now his only hope at discovering the truth were the last people he’d ever trust. They’d come here for answers, and even though he had promised Tomas that he’d keep an open mind, a part of him wanted them to be guilty--at least that way he had someone to direct his anger toward, instead of internalizing it the way he always had.</p><p>“Canelo…” Marisol’s voice came quietly from behind him, tearing him away from his thoughts and bringing him back to reality.  “He’s awake now…”</p><p>Canelo stood without saying a word and walked into the house, leaving Marisol behind on the porch. He stepped into the guest room quietly, making his way to where Tomas lay and taking a seat next to him on the bed. He tried to think of what he could say, but the silence between them spoke louder than any words either of them could say. They were all that was left of the East Los Angeles Pack--over five generations of wolves--an entire legacy, destroyed in one night. The uncertainty of their future weighed heavily on them, and for the first time since they’d left Los Angeles, both boys felt the weight of their grief.</p><p>Tomas had his gaze fixed on the ceiling and when Canelo looked over at him, he saw tears start to fall from his eyes. He’d hadn’t seen his cousin cry since his father had passed away, and Tomas had only been four years old back then. Seeing him cry now broke something inside of Canelo, and suddenly he was leaning across Tomas, his arms wrapped around him as he sobbed openly and loudly. Tomas joined him, encircling him with his arms and burying his face in Canelo’s shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>Downstairs in the kitchen, Marisol and Aurora stood quietly listening as the two cousins let loose their grief--the sounds of their broken sobs causing both the girls to tear up in sympathy.</p><p>Marisol shook her head as she looked over to Aurora and whispered, “How did this happen?”p&gt;
</p><p>Aurora simply looked at her in response and shook her head, unable to provide a response and feeling utterly useless in their current situation.</p><p>“And did you hear when he said it was our fault?” Marisol persisted. She wasn’t looking for an answer, but she had to know that Aurora was processing the same information she was. “How could that be our fault?”</p><p>“I don’t know.” Aurora wiped away at a tear that had escaped, turning away from Marisol and busying herself with tidying up the kitchen. Marisol took that as her cue to stop asking questions they didn’t have answers to, and took to helping Aurora store dishes away--anything to distract herself from the cries of the two boys upstairs. She understood their grief--they both did--but hearing them cry, defeated and broken, brought back a wave of memories and emotions that both of them had buried deep within themselves.</p><p>“We have to ask them.” Aurora said with determination. “We need to know what happened, and if whoever attacked them followed them.”</p><p>“You think they were followed?” Marisol asked, fear creeping into her heart.</p><p>“I don’t know...but if Canelo is right, and somehow, this has to do with us...then we have to assume that we aren’t as safe as we thought we were.” </p><p>After a few minutes of silence from upstairs, Aurora decided it was the now-or-never opportunity she was waiting for. Followed by Marisol, she walked into the guest room and stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to appear authoritative. In contrast, Marisol moved to the other side of the bed from where Canelo sat, and took a seat next to Tomas, reaching out to hold his hand and noticing his other one already encompassed by both of Canelo’s.</p><p>“We need to know everything that happened.” Aurora cut straight to the chase. Canelo frowned and was about to talk back, when Tomas squeezed his hand and nodded at him, letting him know she was right--they needed to tell them everything.</p><p>Tomas started from his leaving the house, working his way through the battle and the death of his mother and Carmen. When things got too hard for him to talk through, Canelo would jump in, putting on a brave face and forcing his emotions down.</p><p>“I’d never sensed anything like him.” Tomas said quietly after they finished relaying their story. “He was definitely supernatural, but something about him felt off...and he also smelled off.”</p><p>“Off?” Marisol questioned. “What do you mean by that?”</p><p>“Like...I’m not sure. I mean, I am sure, but it was just unlike anyone I’d ever seen.” Tomas frowned, thinking back to the look the blonde man had given him when he’d walked into the same restaurant, and the chill Tomas had felt when their eyes met. “He smelled like a werewolf...but there was something else.”</p><p>“What something else?” Aurora interrupted.</p><p>“He...he smelled like death…” Tomas felt silent, unsure of how this news would be taken and what it could mean--maybe Aurora knew about a supernatural creature that smelled like both werewolf and death?</p><p>“How…” Marisol turned to Aurora, a confused look on her face. “How can someone smell like death...if they aren’t dead? Is that a thing?”</p><p>“I’m not sure…” Aurora sighed, once again feeling frustrated at their lack of answers. They had the full story now, but she still didn’t understand how any of this was connected to them. They didn’t know of such a creature, and if they had they certainly would have told people about it. “Canelo...you mentioned this was our fault...why?”</p><p>“Look…” Canelo was suddenly overtaken by doubt--could they really be at fault if they didn’t know how the leader had been? If they didn’t even know what had happened? But then again, how could they not, if it had happened many times before? “I’m not saying...it’s 100% your fault, but I do know for a fact, that y’all lied about how you really were. And if you lied to us, then you probably lied to the others.”</p><p>“Others?” Marisol asked.</p><p>“I looked you up.” Canelo admitted. “I did all this research to gather evidence that you were connected to the Armendariz massacre.”</p><p>“What?” Aurora cut him off, taken aback by the sudden revelation.</p><p>“The Armendariz massacre. I know y’all stayed with them before coming to stay with us, and when we read the news about what happened--certain things just didn’t add up.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Marisol interrupted, the realization of what ‘massacre’ meant suddenly  written all over her face. “You’re saying that the Armendariz family...they’re dead? All of them?”</p><p>“What the fuck do you think ‘massacre’ means?” Canelo squinted at her, shaking his head before he continued. “Armendariz was one of the oldest and biggest packs in the country, and out of nowhere they’re suddenly wiped out? And over what? Family secrets? Pack betrayals? Fights for power? Nah. None of that seemed to fit so I did some more digging…turns out every pack you two stayed have been getting murdered.”</p><p>“That’s a fucking lie.” Aurora spat out at him, confusion and anger in her eyes.</p><p>“No it’s fucking not! Starting about a year ago everyone you’ve come into contact with has died. Whoever or whatever is doing this is vicious, they can’t even find all the bodies of those killed.” Canelo stood from the bed, letting go of Tomas’s hand and turning to confront Aurora face to face. “Every single one of them--, the Sunshine pack, the Notta pack, the Friche pack--murdered...and my guess is you two had something to do with it.”</p><p>“The Notta pack?” Marisol asked softly, a sob trapped in her throat as her eyes welled up with tears.</p><p>“Yeah, and the entirety of the Texas Star packs.” Canelo turned away from her, caught off guard by the expression of grief on her face and feeling uncomfortable from her sudden display of emotion. “All of them…”</p><p>Suddenly, a strangled sob came from where Aurora was standing. The three of them turned to look at her as she ran out of the room, frantically climbing down the stairs and bursting out the front door.</p><p>Marisol ran after her, calling out her name as she did, but by the time she got to the front door, Aurora had already disappeared.</p><p>“What the hell was that all about?” Canelo asked, confused.</p><p>“We didn’t…” Marisol held back a sob, wanting to appear strong in front of Canelo, the way Aurora always did when bad things happened. “We didn’t know...about any of this…”</p><p>Canelo frowned, taken aback by the girl’s words and her display of emotion. It seemed genuine, and if it was, then maybe they weren’t really to blame. But even then, the evidence against them was too strong, even if they hadn’t been involved in the massacres themselves, they were somehow connected to why they were happening. “How the hell could you not know?”</p><p>“Look, I have to go find her.” Marisol turned away from him and grabbed her car keys, walking toward the door. She wished she could have a justifiable answer for him, but she didn’t. “I’ll be back as soon as I can...there’s...soup, and supplies in the kitchen if you need anything...I just...I have to go--I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>When Marisol found her, Aurora was pacing back and forth in a frantic state, phone in one hand and held up to her ear.</p><p>“I swear to God, Fermin, if you don’t answer the phone right now I’m gonna go to Florida and kill you myself!” Aurora was yelling into the phone, tears falling down her face and her voice cracking with every word. “ANSWER THE GODDAMN PHONE!”</p><p>“Ro…” Marisol stepped out of her car, walking toward Aurora slowly.</p><p>“No!” Aurora looked back at her, holding out her arm as a warning for her to stay away.</p><p>“Ro…” Marisol called out to her again, tears forming in her eyes as she made her way toward her friend.</p><p>“NO!” Aurora turned away from her, picking up her phone and dialing again. Her voice cracked as she left yet another tearful message. “Fermin...please...I need...I need you to call me back...please call me back...please baby, call me back...I need...I need…”</p><p>Marisol stood next to her, slowly reaching up toward Aurora’s phone and taking it from her, ending the phone call. She whispered her name again, wrapping her arms around her tightly as Aurora fell to her knees and released her loud, broken sobs. She shook her head violently, her hands gripping Marisol’s arms tightly as she repeated over and over, “No. No no no no no.”</p><p>“I’m so sorry Ro…” Marisol held back her own sobs despite the tears that now flowed freely down her face. She had to be strong for Aurora. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Aurora let out an anguished cry, frightening the nearby birds and causing them to fly from the trees they had been perched in. This couldn’t be true, she thought. She had just talked to him a few weeks ago. She’d called him last night. She’d told him she loved him. She’d told him she was ready. How could he be gone? “No…”</p><p>Marisol held her tighter as Aurora’s sobs racked her body. She wanted to hold her together--keep her from falling apart. But she knew this pain. And nothing that Marisol could do was going to keep her from breaking. She could only sit there, kneeling next to her, holding her as best she could and letting her fall apart in her arms.</p><p>She had heard her the night before--her hopeful tone when she left Fermin her message, the sigh of relief when she hung up the phone--Aurora was finally ready to let Fermin in--to start a life with him, maybe even a family. And now the hope for a happy future was gone--ripped away from her before she even held it in her hands.</p><p>It was a few minutes before Aurora’s sobs slowed and her body stopped shaking. Marisol continued to hold her, running a hand through her hair, trying to soothe her as best she could. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she knew it was late and Canelo was probably wondering where they’d gone and when they’d be back. She shifted herself from her position in the ground, and rose to her feet, lifting Aurora with her as she did.</p><p>“Ro?” Marisol said her name gently. “We have to go home.”</p><p>Aurora simply nodded, a vacant expression on her face as she followed her back to the car. Marisol sat her down, pulling the seatbelt across her and strapping her into the passenger’s seat. They drove in silence, Aurora looking out the passenger’s window, her eyes glossed over and empty.</p><p>“I can’t do this anymore, Mari.” Aurora’s were barely audible, but still caused Marisol to look over at her, concern written on her face. It had been a long time since Marisol had seen her friend this way, and even then Aurora had always attempted to hide it from her--putting on a fake smile when Marisol walked into the room, or telling far too many jokes to pretend she wasn’t hurting. But this was different. Now she couldn’t pretend, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.</p><p>“I know.” Marisol said softly, unbuckling her own seatbelt and exiting the car to go around and help Aurora out. She put an arm around her, supporting her as they walked up to the front door, which opened once they reached it, Canelo standing on the other side, an expectant look on his face. He was about to open his mouth to ask them why they took so long, when he locked eyes with Marisol who simply shook her head, instead asking him for help.</p><p>He didn’t hesitate, and between the two of them they carried her to her bedroom, laying her on the bed. Marisol removed her shoes and jacket, covering her with a blanket and leaning down to give her a watery kiss on the forehead. She kneeled next to the bed, looking at Aurora’s empty expression and caressing her face softly. “It’s gonna be okay mamas…I’m gonna make it okay.”</p><p>Canelo watched the scene from the hallway, his brow furrowed as he begrudgingly came to a conclusion he wasn’t sure was a relief or not--whatever they’re connection to the massacres, there was no way they were at fault. Aurora and Marisol were innocent.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't know if it really matters, but I thought I'd share a little background with you. Because for some reason I love to create complex backstories. I can't be mad tho because then Bear Hands and I possibly wouldn't have Fermin, Tomas, or Canelo.<br/>Aurora and Marisol have been traveling for around the last two years and have visited with many a packs, as named in the chapter which I shall now tell you where they all are for any curious reader.<br/>After Aurora's pack was massacred, she took Marisol and they went to New Jersey (yes, they only went to go and try to find the Jersey Devil).<br/>Then continued north to Canada where they stayed with the Friche pack, literally just the word Frozen in French. So creative, I know.<br/>Then they headed down to Tampa, Florida where they took refuge with the Notta pack, whom Fermin is a part of.<br/>Headed across country to Washington state, which you'll learn a little more about soon. I think. Maybe.<br/>After that over to Wyoming, like Yellowstone NP area, with the Sunshine pack.<br/>Then Texas. Huge pack that the Armendariz family was a part of.<br/>Then Los Angeles, where our bbs Tomas and Canelo come from.<br/>And of course now they are in Beacon Hills.</p><p> </p><p>If you'd like a little glimps into Aurora and Fermins romance, you can check out this little one-shot here: <a>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29391522</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Chapter Thirty One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After an impromptu grocery trip, Marisol begins to think that maybe she and Canelo can move past their awkward relationship, but tensions rise when she lets slip some truth about their past, causing a scene in the Beacon Hills High School parking lot.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just to be clear, yes, Fermin is dead. We know it's sad and it hurts. I legit was tearing up when it was being written.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marisol woke with a start. </p><p>After tucking in Aurora last night, she had fallen asleep outside her doorway, propped up against the wall in the hallway. She’d felt this was the best way to keep an eye on her while giving her enough privacy, but now she was regretting the decision. She straightened up, stretching her stiff neck and leaning toward the doorway to check on Aurora, only to find her bed empty. She stood abruptly, fear creeping up her spine, when she suddenly caught the sound of hushed voices coming from downstairs in the kitchen--Aurora and Canelo were bickering again, though this time it seemed to be over who grabbed the coffee pot first, and not over the events concerning the attack in LA.</p><p>Marisol rolled her eyes and quietly made her way downstairs, hoping to catch them in the act and give them a stern talking to. She was just about to turn the corner to surprise them, when behind her came Tomas’s voice, “What’s for breakfast?”</p><p>Aurora and Canelo fell into an instant silence, each avoiding Marisol’s glare and Tomas’s eager eyes. Instead of reprimanding them in front of Tomas, Marisol turned to reprimand him instead. He may be feeling better, but he was still in no shape to be moving about--especially not down the stairs.</p><p>“Hey! You’re supposed to be in bed.” She walked over to the dining table and pulled out a chair, helping him to sit. As much as he tried to hide it, he had a severe limp and winced visibly every time he took a step.</p><p>“Ay, I’m fine.” He pretended to wave Marisol’s arms away as she reached out to help him to his seat, but still took a hold of her arm when he sat, leaning on her for support. “Plus, moving around will aid me in healing quicker.”</p><p>“So will rest.” Marisol retorted, shaking her head at him despite the goofy grin that was plastered on his face.</p><p>“So, what were you too talking about?” Tomas asked, feigning innocence as he scooped a forkful of eggs into his mouth from the plate Marisol had just placed in front of him. She shot her a sly wink as they watched the other two scramble to cover up their petty argument.</p><p>“Nothing.” Canelo responded quickly. “Just about breakfast.”</p><p>“And manners…” Aurora grumbled under her breath.</p><p>“What was that?” Tomas asked, adding fuel to the fire, much to Marisol’s dismay.</p><p>
“Nothing...just that <i>some people</i>, could do with learning some manners.” Aurora said nonchalantly, looking Canelo in the eye.</p><p>“<i>Some people</i> wouldn’t have to learn manners if <i>others</i> were better hosts.” Canelo retorted, causing Aurora to let out a low growl.</p><p>“OKAY!” Marisol interrupted, before things escalated. “I think all that matters is that we are all properly fed, and that Tomas is feeling better.”</p><p>They all fell into an awkward silence, which Tomas relished in, finishing his breakfast with a smug smile on his face. As quiet as they’d tried to be, Aurora and Canelo had been bickering the entire morning--since he woke up at 5 a.m., he’d heard them going at it, butting heads over the dumbest of things. He was surprised when he saw Marisol propped up all crooked against the wall, dead asleep, but then he’d remembered how late she and Aurora had come back, and how Marisol had stayed up even later, making sure Aurora was able to finally fall asleep. When he’d heard her finally move from her spot on the floor, he followed her downstairs, hoping to sneak up on his cousin and Aurora, and embarrass them in the process. It’d worked, and now they were all clearing off the table in silence.</p><p>Aurora walked over to the sink, dumping out the coffee she hadn’t even taken a sip off. She knew that arguing over the coffee had been childish--she hadn’t even wanted to actually drink any--but she couldn’t help herself she saw Canelo helping himself to a cup without fixing up one for her. In his defense, she’d ignored his “good morning” and his presence all together, but in her defense, he <i>definitely</i> knew better than to serve himself as if he was in his home. But they were in pain, and even though they could have acted differently, their emotions were still raw and took over their every thought and action.</p><p>“Would you like some coffee?” Aurora asked Tomas sweetly, ignoring the glare and scoff from Canelo followed by his whispered ‘are you serious?’.</p><p>“I would <i>love</i> some.” Tomas smiled at her.</p><p>
Aurora went over to the coffee maker, and began pouring the coffee into a mug. It took only a few seconds for the other three to notice the coffee spilling from the counter onto the floor, and Marisol quickly moved to where Aurora stood, still pouring, her hands shaking and her eyes vacant and lost. Without a word, she took the pot and mug from her, placing each down on the counter before cleaning up the mess.</p><p>“Ro?” Marisol asked softly. “You okay?”</p><p>“Hmm?” Aurora looked at her, suddenly called back to reality. “Yeah, baby, I’m fine. What’s wrong?”</p><p>Marisol turned back to the two boys, noting the confused look on their faces. “Nothing...Why don’t you go back to lie down--you look like you could use a nap…”</p><p>“Yeah…” Aurora said quietly, letting Marisol guide her out of the kitchen and up the stairs.</p><p>Once Aurora was up the stairs, Marisol returned to the kitchen, instructing Tomas to get some rest as well, not taking no for an answer. He gave in easily, realizing his body still ached and that more rest couldn’t do him any harm.</p><p>“Okay, well that just leaves you and me.” Marisol said, turning to Canelo, who sat at the table with his arms folded over his chest. It was no secret that Canelo harbored some sort of resentment toward Marisol--she’d felt it when they’d first moved to LA, she just hadn’t known why and still didn’t. Perhaps now that he was here she could clear things up with him. Whatever the case, right now, she just needed to get him out of the house--for everyone’s sake--Aurora was a ticking time bomb, and with him around, she was bound to go off sooner than later.</p><p>“Look, I gotta go run some errands and I don’t feel comfortable enough in this town to go alone…”</p><p>“So?” Canelo said, knowing where this was going to lead.</p><p>“So...will you come with me?” Marisol asked, expectantly.</p><p>After a long and awkward pause, Canelo finally spoke. “Yeah sure, whatever.” </p><p> </p><p>“Is this really why you dragged me out with you? To help you plan what’s for dinner?” Canelo complained as he followed Marisol around the grocery store, watching as she went through her list, marking off what was already in the cart. “This is a waste of my time.”</p><p>Marisol responded without looking at him, her gaze searching the shelves for the right spices, “No, I dragged you out because the last thing Tomas needs while he recovers, is having to listen to you and Aurora’s constant bickering.”</p><p>Canelo grumbled something about how it wasn’t constant, but he knew she was right. “Well, whatever you make, I am sure Tomas and I will eat it--just no white people food, <i>please</i>.”</p><p>Marisol cracked a smile, hearing him whispering to himself about what sort of white nonsense it was to put raisins in any type of salad. “Aurora made that salad <i>one</i> time and y’all never let her live it down!”</p><p>“Who brings a <i>salad</i> to a carne asada?” Canelo looked almost indignant, causing Marisol to let out a hearty laugh. “Honestly, it’s unheard of. She would have done better if she’d just brought a 24 pack of Modelo.”</p><p>“We can’t get drunk.” Marisol pointed out as they walked through the produce section, stopping in front of the chiles.</p><p>“Yeah, but others could. Plus, it’s more about the <i>custom</i> than the actual drinking--a carne asada isn’t complete if you don’t have an ice cold Mexican beer  in your hand.” Canelo smirked at Marisol, nodding his head.</p><p>“Okay, okay.” Marisol held her hands up in defeat. She wasn’t about to argue about the intricacies of a carne asada--she hadn’t even been to one until they’d moved to Florida, and it was only then that she realized there was a big difference between a carne asada at home and a <i>carne asada</i>. Sometimes she wished her parents had held more get-togethers at their house--shared a bit of their culture with the rest of the pack. But while her parents made Mexican food at home, the pack barbeques always featured some array of ribs, burgers, and hot dogs--not to mention the blaring classic rock playing in the background. Shortly after they’d arrived at Florida, Fermin had suggested a carne asada to welcome them--the food was Cuban, but the music, dancing, and laughter reminded her so much of her own home--her own family.</p><p>The sudden thought of Fermin brought a strong ache to her heart. In the turmoil of last night, she hadn’t been able to properly process what Canelo had told them--she’d been too busy making sure Aurora was okay. Now the reality of him being gone was starting to set in and she could feel the grief creeping up to her throat, threatening to spill out from inside her. Instead, she did what she always did--she swallowed it, and distracted herself. “Maybe we can have a carne asada here--you can share my first <i>cerveza</i> with me.”</p><p>“Aw nah--we ain’t sharing.” Canelo grinned mischievously at Marisol’s confused face. “You’re drinking the whole thing on your own.”</p><p>“Oh my god.” Marisol chuckled. “Does it even taste good?”</p><p>“Tastes like shit, but that’s not the point. My compadre Mario downs at least 16 at each get together--and he’s one of the wolves.” Canelo’s laugh suddenly died down as the realization kicked in, “He <i>was</i> one of the wolves.”</p><p>Marisol stopped in her tracks, turning back to see Canelo now stood a few feet away from her, his gaze on the floor and a vacant look in his eye. Afraid of his reaction, she walked over to him slowly. “Canelo?”</p><p>“Hmm?” He responded without looking up at her.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Yeah...so am I.” Canelo sniffed loudly, clearing his throat as he looked back up at Marisol. “There’s a lot I wish I could have done differently...and now...I can’t do shit.”</p><p>They stood quietly watching each other, the pain and anger flowing through Canelo causing a strange tension between the two. They’d never gotten close, and Marisol knew he didn’t trust her--he didn’t even like her--but now there was a genuine reason for resentment. If what he’d told them last night was true, then the attack had been tied to them in some way or form.</p><p>The moment was interrupted when a lady turned into the aisle they were in, causing Canelo and Marisol to start, realizing they were still in a public place. Wiping away a tear, Canelo tried his best to lighten the mood, “Well…I <i>can</i> tell you to get moving. This trip has already gone on way longer than I wanted it to.”</p><p>Marisol simply nodded and continued down the aisle, picking up a few items as she went. Canelo continued to dutifully push the cart around, following and sneaking a box of goodies here and an extra bag of chips there when he thought she wasn’t looking. Marisol smiled to herself as she glanced over her shoulder and caught him carefully placing an extra bag of hot cheetos in the cart.</p><p>“You know, you’re not as sneaky as you think you are.” Marisol smirked at him.</p><p>“Sorry, I’ll put everything back.” Canelos' face turned bright red as he realized he’d been caught.</p><p>“No, it’s okay.” Marisol shook her head at him. “I should have said you could get whatever you wanted.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” At her nod of encouragement he took off, going back through the aisle they’d already passed, and coming back with an armful of junk food. He shot her a questioning look, silently asking if she was sure it was okay, which she responded to by pushing the cart closer to him.</p><p>The rest of the trip around the store was spent in comfortable silence, both having forgotten their sorrow, if only for a moment. When it came time to checkout, Canelo started to fidget as he watched the total climb higher and higher. He half expected Marisol to tell him to place some stuff back or pay for half of it, but she didn’t even blink as she paid with a card.</p><p>Suddenly, Canelo was hit with the realization that he and Tomas had nothing. No clothes, no money, and no pack. <i>What were they going to do?</i> First things first, Tomas needed to finish healing. Then they’d find out everything they could about this new pack and why they were killing everyone associated with Aurora and Marisol. After that, he’d have to find a way to provide for himself and Tomas--they couldn’t be relying on the hospitality of strangers for too long. And finally...they were going to need a new pack, but more importantly, a new Alpha. </p><p>Monday morning found Marisol laying in bed, wishing she could go back to sleep and forget everything that had happened in the last two days. Instead she got up and went about her morning routine--shower, get dressed, go downstairs for some breakfast. Only when she got downstairs, there wasn’t any breakfast--only a pot of coffee brewing and a broody looking Canelo sitting at the table scrolling through his phone.</p><p>“Morning.” Marisol mumbled out as she helped herself to a cup of coffee and sat across from him. He mumbled something back in response and Marisol wondered if like her, he’d spent the entire night tossing and turning. The two sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity before Marisol stood up to leave.</p><p>“Hey, before you go…” Canelo called out to her, following toward the front door. “I was sorta wondering...if I’d be able to borrow your car for a bit today?”</p><p>“What for?” Marisol squinted at him.</p><p>“I dunno…I just thought maybe I’d drive around town a bit, get to know the area.” Canelo scratched the back of his head, feeling silly for asking. “I’m just...kinda losing it...being cooped up all day.”</p><p>“Hmm.” Marisol pursed her lips--she didn’t feel 100 percent comfortable with the idea of an almost stranger driving her car. She might trust Tomas, but Canelo and her had hardly talked before yesterday--he spent most of the time they’d lived in LA glaring at her, and side-eyeing her from afar. But even she had to admit that being holed up at home the last two days was driving everyone a little bit crazy. “I’ll need a ride to school...and you’d have to pick me up when I get out.”</p><p>“Right! I can do that!” Canelo responded, excited at the idea of finally getting out of the house.</p><p>“And you can’t draw any attention to yourself…” Marisol gave him a stern look. “We’ve been trying to keep a low profile here…”</p><p>“I can definitely do that too.” Canelo nodded.</p><p>“Right then...Let’s go.”</p><p>Marisol chose to let Canelo drive to the school, deciding this was a good way to gauge whether he’d take care of her car while he was out and about--he seemed to be a safe driver, and that gave her a sense of calm. They pulled into the school parking lot and Marisol instructed Canelo to park toward the front of the school, where he could drop her off.</p><p>“Alright, I get out at 3:10, so don’t be late!” Marisol said as she gathered her things.</p><p>“I won’t be… and hey...thanks for, uh, trusting me with your car.”</p><p>“I know it’s not much to look at...but if you mess my car up…” Marisol frowned at him, pointing a finger at him and squinting her eyes.</p><p>“I won’t, I won’t!” Canelo held his hands up and chuckled at Marisol’s attempt to appear threatening.</p><p>“Okay...well, have a good day...or at least try.”</p><p>Canelo laughed dryly, “Yeah...I dunno about that…”</p><p>Marisol felt the growing pain in her chest expand. She’d managed to ignore it last night, repressing her grief and she was sure Canelo did the same--she hadn’t heard him cry since Tomas had woken up. “Hey...we’re...we’re gonna figure this out...okay?”</p><p>“Are we?” Canelo scoffed. “Because from where I stand--we don’t know anything, we don’t <i>have</i> anything, and the only people we can trust right now, happen to be the only thing connecting a series of mass murders.”</p><p>“I told you...we didn’t know anything about that.” Marisol retorted, trying not to get defensive, but feeling vulnerable to his accusations. “We don’t <i>know</i> anything about that.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. So you say.” Canelo shook his head, looking away from her. “But I just lost my <i>entire</i> family--so excuse me if I have a little trouble believing anything you two say.”</p><p>Marisol fought the urge to talk back. He was grieving and if she were in his position, she would probably feel the same way. How could he trust them? Everyone they knew was dead, and that hardly seemed like a coincidence. And even though they had told him everything they knew, he wasn’t wrong to think of them as liars. Maybe they hadn’t lied to him, but they were lying to someone. She thought of Scott and the pack and wondered if they’d feel the same as Canelo once they knew the truth. Not only had she lied to them, but now there might be someone after her and Aurora that they’d need to be ready for--and they didn’t even know what or who that could be. She looked at Canelo, who sat looking out the window, a frown on his face. How was she supposed to fix any of this?</p><p>“Look...I know...you’re not my biggest fan, and that Ro and I haven’t really given you a reason to trust us…” Marisol hesitated, thinking over what exactly she was allowed to tell him. “But...I understand what you’re going through…”</p><p>Canelo scoffed, looking back at her, a disgusted look on his face. “You <i>understand</i> what I’m going through? How the fuck would you understand? How the fuck would you know what it feels like--to lose <i>everything, everyone</i> you’ve ever loved?”</p><p>Marisol looked down at her lap. She knew she wasn’t supposed to talk about what happened to anyone--Aurora was always the one who told people, and even then, it was only ever to the alphas of a pack. “We lost everyone too.”</p><p>Her words were barely above a whisper, that Canelo almost missed them. “What?”</p><p>“I’m...look, I’m not supposed to talk about it…” Marisol shook her head and opened the door. “I gotta go. I’m gonna be late for class.”</p><p>She walked out and closed the door behind her, feeling stupid for having told Canelo the truth, and worrying that she’d made a mistake. She’d hardly walked a few feet when Canelo jumped out of the car and ran after her.</p><p>“What the hell does that mean Mari?” He questioned her, his anger and confusion overtaking him.</p><p>“I can’t…” Marisol looked around, hoping they weren’t drawing any attention to themselves. “I can’t tell you...I’m not supposed to...I have to go.”</p><p>She turned to leave, but was stopped by Canelo’s clawed hand gripping her wrist tightly. There was a low growl that came from behind her, and Marisol turned to find Canelo’s blue eyes glowing brightly. “Tell me the truth. NOW.”</p><p>Marisol looked away from his face and down to the claws wrapped around her arm. Suddenly she was overcome with emotions--confusion, pain, <i>fear</i>--a memory she had long ago stored away creeped up on her, and suddenly that hand wasn’t Canelo’s--it was someone else’s. Just like that, she was fifteen again--young and naive--in the forest alone with an older boy she didn’t know that well--his clawed hand wrapped tightly around her wrist, fangs out and eyes red as blood. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. <i>Aurora. Emy. Beacon Hills.</i></p><p>When her eyes opened, she looked straight at Canelo--her own eyes, shining bright and blue. “Let me go…”</p><p>Canelo hesitated, his anger getting the better of him, if only for a second. Realizing he’d crossed a line, he let go of Marisol’s arm slowly, retracting his claws and stepping away from her. His voice cracked when he spoke, “I’m sorry...I just...I <i>need</i> to know the truth.”</p><p>Marisol’s eyes faded back to her normal dark brown and she sighed. The first bell rang loudly behind her, and few lingering students began to make their way indoors. “I know...just...let me talk to Aurora.”</p><p>Canelo hesitated again before nodding in agreement. Marisol turned to leave, her breath still shaky from the confrontation, when he called out to her again. “Marisol...I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Yeah...Me too.” With that, she walked toward the school entrance while Canelo got back in the car. After yesterday’s grocery trip, Marisol had hoped that any tension between her and Canelo had dissipated, but now it seemed she’d gone and made things worse. She was sure Aurora would give her an earful about telling someone about their past without consulting her first, but what else was she supposed to do when he didn’t trust them? Wasn’t telling the truth always the best option in the end? She hoped Canelo would let it go, but she felt he was the type to hold onto something until he got answers. She sighed again, trying to expel all her anxiety with it. Things would get better...hopefully.</p><p>From afar, a familiar face stood watching her as she made her way to the school’s entrance doors. There hadn’t been too many students or staff in the parking lot during their argument, but one person watched intently, taking in all that had happened--particularly interested in Canelo’s claws and Marisol’s eyes. There was the proof he needed. Stiles had not only seen Marisol talking to a wolf in the parking lot, he’d seen her own eyes shine bright blue--and he knew <i>exactly</i> what that meant.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We promise out tw favs will be back next chapter</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Chapter Thirty Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Scott contemplates on everything he and his friends, his pack, has learned about their new friend Marisol, and makes a decision.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We would like to give a small reminder that we began thinking and writing this little idea four years ago, maybe even longer. Now for a small disclaimer and warning: from here on, there shall be small tidbits of information, that will sound similar to the current pandemic we are experiencing, that are helpful in setting up for our villain.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marisol made her way up the steps toward the entrance of the school, wondering how she was going to tell Aurora that she’d almost told Canelo the truth behind their past. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t share their story, but she knew that the details of their loss painted Aurora in a negative light, and if she was being honest, she didn’t actually like telling it. She was so deep in thought she almost collided with Stiles, who waited patiently for her in front of the entrance doors, arms crossed over his chest and a suspicious look on his face.</p>
<p>“Oh!” Marisol let out a surprised squeak. “I didn’t see you--sorry.”</p>
<p>“Nah, it’s fine.” Stiles looked at her curiously, wondering if he should confront her, then and there, to see what her reaction would be. “Saw you in the parking lot and I thought, ‘you know, I should wait for her.’”</p>
<p>“Oh...well, thanks.” Marisol grew weary of his tone. He seemed to have slipped back into his previous demeanor--to how he treated her when they’d first met--something she thought they’d both moved past. Suddenly realization dawned on her--he must have seen her, he must have seen Canelo. But she’d searched the area--there had been no one around--there was no way he could have seen what happened. Unless she’d somehow missed him.</p>
<p>The both of them stood awkwardly in silence, each looking the other in the eye and searching for something that neither of them was willing to give up. Would Marisol admit to what had just happened? Would Stiles admit to what he saw? The growing tension was suddenly broken by Scott who joined them with a goofy looking grin on his face.<br/>
</p>
<p>“Hey guys! Ready for bio?” Scott smiled at the two of them, his thumbs looped through the straps hanging from his backpack.</p>
<p>Marisol was the first to break eye contact, turning to Scott and returning a smile. “Yep! You ready for the quiz today?”</p>
<p>“I don’t think I’m ever ready for any quiz…” Scott laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head in an embarrassed manner. He turned away, walking through the doors as Marisol followed behind him, avoiding Stiles’s glare and hoping that she was wrong about what she suspected--maybe he <i>hadn’t</i> seen them. She’d have to play it all off--act like she didn’t know what he was talking about, or even ignore what had happened completely--if she didn’t bring it up, then <i>he’d</i> have to, and right now it seemed like that wasn’t something he was going to do.</p>
<p>“You know, I can always help you study--if you want.” Marisol offered, catching up to Scott and walking beside him as Stiles followed behind.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I don’t think he needs your help.” Stiles sneered.</p>
<p>Scott shot him a look before turning back to Marisol and smiling softly, “It’s not really studying that’s the issue...more like...having the time.”</p>
<p>“Oh...okay...Well, if you ever <i>do</i> have time, just let me know.”</p>
<p>Scott smiled at her in gratitude as he opened the door to their biology class and the three of them made their way to their seats just as the late bell rang. Trying to be discreet as possible, Marisol tried to listen in on Scott and Stiles, but to her surprise, they were talking about lacrosse practice. To be safe, she listened for a few minutes, but most of the conversation revolved around who would replace Scott as captain next year once they graduated. Feeling a small sense of relief come over her, Marisol focused her attention back to the front of class--maybe Stiles really <i>hadn’t</i> seen her and Canelo.</p>
<p>Meanwhile on the other side of class, Stiles pulled out his phone and tried his best to avoid looking back to check on Marisol. She hadn’t seemed phased by his passive confrontation earlier, and with her in class, he didn’t want to risk talking to Scott about what he saw and having her hear them. He typed away on his phone as discreetly as he could, then slid it over to Scott, leaning toward him so that if Marisol really was watching them or listening in, she wouldn’t notice the exchange. Scott looked down, surprised at Stiles’s phone suddenly being in front of him, but even more surprised by the words he was reading.</p>
<p>
  <i>Need to have a pack meeting--I was right.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Scott knew he should have waited to send out the “urgent meeting: tomorrow after school” text. All day he’d been stopped by his friends, questioned about what this meeting was about, and what was so urgent they had to have it so soon. Each time he gave the same answer--<i>later</i>. He didn’t like the feeling of guilt that washed over him each time he avoided telling them the truth, but he justified this decision by telling himself that he wasn’t even sure <i>what</i> the truth was. All Stiles had told him was that he’d been right about his suspicions of Marisol and that this time he had visual proof. But Scott didn’t even know what the visual proof was, and Stiles refused to tell him anything more until he was sure they weren’t going to be heard.</p>
<p>“We have to wait...until we’re away from listening ears.” Scott had assumed he meant Marisol, which confirmed Stiles’s and Kira’s belief that Marisol and Aurora might be something other than human. That alone wasn’t enough to condemn them, even if they <i>had</i> kept it a secret from them, but what kept running through his mind was Stiles’s written words, <i>I was right</i>. Did that mean they were dangerous? Not to be trusted? Marisol seemed too sweet to be dangerous, and he couldn’t imagine her being untrustworthy--all she’d done since she’d arrived was help the others with their studying and go on shopping dates with Lydia. He pushed the thoughts aside and concluded that the best decision was to wait until tomorrow when he’d be able to confront Marisol.</p>
<p>When Marisol didn’t show up at their table during lunch, Scott felt relief coursing through him, though he immediately felt guilty about it. He felt even worse the way Stiles reacted when Lydia told them Malia was with Marisol studying in the library--he wasn’t sure what Stiles was more upset about: the fact that Malia might be in danger, or the fact that Lydia had casually said that they seemed “rather cozy.” When Lydia had insisted he tell them what was going on, he refused once again, with the support of Stiles this time--they had to wait until everyone was together after school.</p>
<p>Then after school rolled around and Scott found himself immediately accosted by all six of his friends, each of them wondering what exactly was going on. He tried to ignore Malia’s aggressive harassment, looking over to Stiles for help before Lydia finally got them all to settle down.</p>
<p>“Okay, Scott.” Lydia started. “Tell us what this is all about. What’s so urgent we have to meet tomorrow? And aren’t we technically meeting right now?”</p>
<p>“We...are…” Scott hesitated. “But...Marisol isn’t here...and I think she should be...tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Scott...you want to invite Marisol to a pack meeting?” Kira asked, cautiously.</p>
<p>“Wait, what?! That wasn’t part of the plan!” Stiles argued.</p>
<p>“I know...but I think it’s important for her to be there--that way we can ask her once and for all to confirm the truth.”</p>
<p>“Truth about what?” Mason questioned, surprised at having been included once again in the pack text ring.</p>
<p>“About how she’s a freaking werewolf.” Stiles intervened, crossing his arms across his chest and shaking his head. “I don’t think this is a good idea Scottie.”</p>
<p>“Maybe not, but I want to give her a chance to come clean--tell us the truth.” Scott nodded determinedly, to which Stiles responded by shaking his incredulously.</p>
<p>“Wait…” Malia interrupted quietly. “Are you saying...Marisol...<i>lied</i> to us?”</p>
<p>Scott looked at her sympathetically. He knew how close the two had gotten over the last few weeks, and it was no secret that both of them felt a certain way when they were near each other--so this news had definitely struck Malia differently than it had the others.</p>
<p>“Well, lying or not--that doesn’t mean she’s a threat.” Kira spoke up in the silence that had followed the reality of Malia’s words.</p>
<p>“Yeah, well about that…” Stiles spoke up, looking over to Scott as if looking for encouragement to go on. “I saw...her eyes...they were blue.”</p>
<p>Malia looked around at everyone’s worried expressions. “Okay, well that doesn’t mean anything...Derek has blue eyes, <i>I</i> have blue eyes.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well you didn’t see what I saw.” Stiles retorted. “This guy she was with…”</p>
<p>“Wait now there’s a guy?” Liam finally spoke up, glad that everyone else finally looked as confused as he felt.</p>
<p>“Yeah, there was a guy--Liam keep up.” Stiles replied exasperatedly. “He was some big guy--shaved head, big arms--big <i>claws</i>.”</p>
<p>“Claws?” Lydia asked, both her eyebrows raised.</p>
<p>“Yeah, <i>claws</i>.” Stiles wiggled his fingers in front of her face. “He grabbed onto her pretty tight, and by the look on his face--it wasn’t a friendly grab...and her reaction...not so friendly either.”</p>
<p>“That doesn’t mean anything!” Malia spat out, feeling angry both at Stiles’s persistent attacks on Marisol, and also betrayed by her newfound friend.</p>
<p>“You’re right, it doesn’t.” Scott finally took back control of the conversation. “Which is why we have to ask her up front--<i>tomorrow</i>.”</p>
<p>“Fine...<i>tomorrow</i>.”</p>
<p>They all agreed before setting off on their separate ways, each getting into their respective cars and heading home.</p>
<p>Stiles climbed into his jeep and made his way back to his house, his mind racing with ideas on how to best confront Marisol at the pack meeting tomorrow. He’d have to be level headed--Scott had warned him about antagonizing her, and he knew he was right. If he came at her with aggression, she might get defensive and shut down--or worse, get aggressive back. He pulled into the driveway and noticed his dad’s car was already there, which meant he was already home, which meant now was the prime time to harass him about any info he’d collected on Aurora and Marisol.</p>
<p>“Dad, dad, dad.” Stiles rushed through the front door, going from room to room looking for the sheriff.</p>
<p>“In here.” His dad called back to him from the kitchen.</p>
<p>After relaying what he had seen in the parking lot that morning to his father, Stiles sat waiting expectantly for some sort of reaction from him. After receiving nothing but a squint of the eyes, Stiles groaned and questioned him, “Well? Did <i>you</i> find anything useful?”</p>
<p>The sheriff gave him a pointed look before revealing the information he had gathered. “As a matter of fact...I did find something interesting.”</p>
<p>He handed Stiles a small stack of papers, and watched as his son looked them over.</p>
<p>“It seems...these girls travel a lot--never staying in one place for too long.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, Marisol said something about how Aurora hasn’t ‘found the right place to settle down’ but I don't buy it.” Stiles mentioned as he paged through the paperwork in front of him.</p>
<p>“Huh...well, if you look at these,” Noah handed him a few articles along with missing people reports and hospital records. “I’d say that their story is a load of bull.”</p>
<p>“What am I looking at?” Stiles leafed through the pages, trying to make a connection between them.</p>
<p>“These are a collection of articles and reports from every city or town they’ve stayed in, in the last two years...notice anything?” The sheriff waited for his son to catch on.</p>
<p>“Uhh...just that a bunch of people have either died from disease or murder...and a <i>lot</i> of them have gone missing.” Stiles rubbed his head, trying to make sense of how any of these things were related to each other.</p>
<p>“Yep.” Noah nodded. “All of these...are from <i>after</i> these ladies have stayed there--murder, disease, people missing--if there’s anything that I’ve learned over the last few years, it’s that when any of these start happening out of the blue--someone, or <i>something</i> supernatural is usuall involved.”</p>
<p>“So you think they’re somehow related to all this?” Stiles asked, suddenly more concerned than he previously was when he accused Marisol of being dangerous. Before, it’d only been the threat of another powerful wolf in the area, but if what his dad was suspecting was true, then the two girls proved to be way more dangerous than he’d initially thought.</p>
<p>“I’m not sure how...but, what I do know, is that wherever these two girls find themselves...trouble follows.” The sheriff took a swig of his water and set down his glass firmly on the table, proud of his revelation.</p>
<p>“But what do these disease cases have to do with them? I mean wolves don’t cause disease...do they?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know. At this point, I think I’d believe anything you told me, but how else can you explain a sudden epidemic hospitalizing a significant portion of the population just <i>months</i> after they stayed there?”</p>
<p>“But wouldn’t this draw attention? I mean shouldn’t the CDC and WHO be all over this?” Stiles questioned, trying to wrap his head around this newfound information.</p>
<p>“Maybe? I don’t know.” Noah took another long drink of his water before continuing. “It seems that each disease is different--and if it’s contained to just one town and people aren’t dying, then maybe it doesn’t go on their radar?”</p>
<p>“Yeah...maybe.” Stiles whispered to himself as he scanned over the homicide reports and articles he held in his hands. “Do we know who these people are?”</p>
<p>“The murders?” Noah questioned.</p>
<p>“Yeah...I mean...some of these people have the same last names, but others don’t…”</p>
<p>“What are you thinking? Other wolf packs?”</p>
<p>“Maybe?...Like the one in Jersey...they were wiped out right? Two different packs?”</p>
<p>“You think these girls go around killing off rival packs or something? Why wait until <i>after</i> they leave to kill them off?” The sheriff countered. “It wouldn’t make sense to <i>go back</i> to kill someone.”</p>
<p>“I don't know…” Stiles rubbed at his eyes, frustrated by what he was reading.</p>
<p>“I know you think they’re dangerous--and I’m not saying they aren’t, but I don’t think these girls are murderers...just caught up in something they shouldn’t be a part of.”</p>
<p>“None of this is making any sense, and I’m not even sure the others would believe me if I told them.”</p>
<p>“Tread carefully, son.” Noah warned his son as he stood from the table. “They may not be murderers, but Death definitely follows wherever they go.”</p>
<p>“Yeah...and Beacon Hills is next.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yay, the main teen wolf characters are back! And Papa Stalinski!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Chapter Thirty Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Canelo and Tomas ask for the truth, as do the Scott and the pack.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We have an announcement after the chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tuesday afternoon found Marisol scrambling through the kitchen looking for something to eat. She’d spent the majority of yesterday and today avoiding Scott and the rest, but just as she was leaving her last class, he’d caught up to her and invited her to a “hangout” at his house later that night--he hadn’t taken ‘no’ for an answer. On top of that, she’d had two straight days of having to deal with Canelo's pressuring stare--he was waiting for the truth she’d promised. She’d managed to talk to Aurora the night before and to her surprise, she’d just sighed tiredly and agreed that they owed the two boys the truth, but to just give her some time.</p>
<p>
But now she stood in front of the open refrigerator trying to ignore Canelo’s stare and the loud tapping of his fingers against the dining table. Grabbing a bottle of water instead of food, she closed the fridge door and proceeded to down the entire thing. She was nervous at home and she was nervous at school--and somehow it all left her dehydrated.</p>
<p>“Okay! Time’s up” Canelo finally snapped, annoyed at being ignored by Marisol, and frustrated at how Aurora had locked herself away in her room for three days--she hadn’t uttered a single word to him or Tomas.</p>
<p>“I told you--Aurora said to give her some time.” Marisol retorted, making her way toward the living room.</p>
<p>“Yeah well we might not have a lot of that.” Canelo responded.</p>
<p>“A lot of what?” Tomas appeared behind them, a suspicious look on his face as he looked from Canelo to Marisol.</p>
<p>“Time.” Canelo answered, his gaze still fixed intently on Marisol. “Now tell me the truth, so we can figure all this out before it’s too late.”</p>
<p>“What’s he talking about Mari?” Tomas looked at Marisol confusedly.</p>
<p>“The truth...about why we left Delaware.” Marisol looked away, feeling guilty and ashamed at how much she and Aurora had kept from the people they cared about. </p>
<p>“Aurora...would always tell the alpha of the packs we stayed with--let <i>them</i> decide whether they trusted us or not...but the truth was always kept from the rest of the pack.”</p>
<p>“Marisol...what really happened?” Tomas asked, his tone much more serious than before.</p>
<p>“Armendariz, Notta...Carmen...they weren’t the first packs to get brutally massacred…” Marisol hesitated before she continued. “ That’s why we had to leave Delaware...everyone we knew...was killed.”</p>
<p>“And how is it that you two made it out okay?” Canelo asked, making it sound more like an accusation than a question.</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t say <i>that</i>...exactly.” Marisol swallowed hard.</p>
<p>“How...<i>did</i> you and Aurora...escape death?” Tomas asked quietly and Marisol could see his faith in her fading in his eyes.</p>
<p>“I...I wasn’t...at the gathering that night.” Marisol’s voice quivered and her eyes started to fill with tears. “My parents had to go out of town that day and they took me with them..I didn’t know that they were trying to protect me from what would happen...They knew, you see...that he..that they would come after us...and Moira...Moira said she’d take care of it, but then...when we came back, they were all dead...and even though we’d left, they still came after us...after <i>them</i>…and Aurora she said she’d fix it, and then she--”</p>
<p>“Marisol.” The voice came loud and harsh from behind them. Aurora stood at the foot of the stairs, and an angry and pained expression on her face.</p>
<p>“Aurora…” Marisol stood looking at her apologetically.</p>
<p>“You’re going to be late to your friends’.” Aurora walked over to the couch where Tomas and Canelo sat. “I’ll take it over from here.”</p>
<p>“I...I’m so--”</p>
<p>“It’s fine.”</p>
<p>Marisol looked over to Canelo and Tomas, who each sat looking down at the floor--Canelo confused and frustrated, and Tomas betrayed. He looked up to meet Marisol’s eyes and she silently begged him to understand, to forgive her after all he was about to learn, but he simply looked away. She turned to grab her keys and her bag before looking back at Aurora.</p>
<p>“Tell them everything.”</p>
<p>Taken off guard by her words, Aurora turned back and shot Marisol a sympathetic look. “Everything?”</p>
<p>Marisol simply nodded, shutting the door behind her. Aurora waited until she’d heard the car pull out of the driveway before turning back to Canelo and Tomas, who sat looking up at her expectantly. She let out a long sigh, looking down at the robe she’d been wearing for the last three days.</p>
<p>“Look,” she started. “I will tell you everything...just...give me sometime to clean up, yeah?”</p>
<p>“No way.” Canelo spoke up, shaking his head.</p>
<p>Tomas placed a hand on Canelo’s arm and looked him in the eye. “That’s fine...we’ll wait for you right here.”</p>
<p>Aurora nodded and made her way up the stairs. She wanted to scream, to yell, to beg, to plead. She wanted nothing more than for them to take her word that they had nothing to do with everything that had happened. Anything would be preferable than telling her story--Marisol’s story yet again. She wanted to feel something other than the anger and guilt that was slowly eating away at her strength and resolve.</p>
<p>She’d known that at one point they’d have to tell their story, but now there were many other factors to take in: who had attacked Carmen’s pack? Why had they gone after the Notta pack? How did she and Marisol tie into all of this? And how was she going to convince Canelo and Tomas that whatever their connection, they hadn’t meant for any of this to happen?  She feared they might treat them differently, especially Marisol--after they learned the whole truth. Would Tomas still admire her? Still look after her the way he had when they’d lived in LA? Would Canelo still think of them as murderers, even after everything they’d gone through, everything they’d suffered?</p>
<p>As the hot water fell on her back, she closed her eyes and worked through what she would say. It would be painful, and she ran the risk of them turning on her, but she knew she had no other option but to tell the truth and hope for the best. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time Marisol arrived at Scott’s house, all the other cars were already parked outside. She silently cursed herself--her timeliness was something she prided herself on and she didn’t like showing up to places late. She got out of her car and walked up to the front door, ringing the doorbell and waiting for what seemed like forever until the door swung open. Liam stood on the other side of the door, looking at her with an awkward smile on his face while the others stood behind him inside the living room.</p>
<p>“Uh...heeeeyy...Marisol.” Liam waved her in, closing the door behind her as she cautiously walked inside the house.</p>
<p>“Hey Liam…” Marisol hadn’t actually met Liam before, but the pack had pointed him out to her during school one day and noticed he was always with Mason, the boy she’d met at the car shop. As she made her way toward the others, she couldn’t fight the feeling that they had been talking about her right before she came in--they now all sat and stood in an awkward silence waiting for her to join them. “Hey...guys.”</p>
<p>“Hi Marisol.” Scott said softly, smiling at her encouragingly.</p>
<p>Marisol was about to sit next to Malia when she noticed she was avoiding her gaze, and decided instead to take a seat next to Lydia. Stiles stood in the corner of the living room, his arms crossed against his chest and his gaze fixed on Marisol. In any other situation, she might have welcomed his fixed stare, but after the way he’d talked to her at school on Monday, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to look at her at all.</p>
<p>“So…” Scott finally broke the silence, standing from his spot on the couch and moving to the center of the room. “I know this is the first time you’re joining us Marisol...but we just wanted to...sort of...<i>welcome</i> you--officially.”</p>
<p>From the corner of the room, Stiles scoffed loudly and turned away, shaking his head.</p>
<p>“Uhhh… okay...thanks?” Marisol answered cautiously.</p>
<p>Scott had gone over how he wanted this conversation to go in heads many times, but somehow, watching Marisol sit on his couch, her hands in her lap and a concerned expression on her face, he felt guilty. Maybe going into this head on was a bad idea--he didn’t want to alienate her, despite Stiles suggesting they run her and her cousin out of town. He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, let her prove that she wasn’t a threat. Attacking her straight on and demanding answers from her wasn’t going to help--he had to think of a way to ease into it.</p>
<p>“So...how much do you really know about Beacon Hills?” Scott asked, watching Marisol’s expressions and trying to gauge how she was feeling. She simply frowned and shook her head, confused by the question. “Do you think...maybe you were <i>drawn</i> here?”</p>
<p>“Drawn here?” Marisol chuckled awkwardly. “What, like, <i>‘it called to us’</i> or something?”</p>
<p>“Something like that…” Liam mumbled awkwardly as he placed a tray of vegetables on the coffee table, taking a carrot and crunching on it loudly, the sound echoing amongst the heavy tension. Malia sent him a glare and rolled her eyes--leave it up to Liam to try to liven up a situation only to make it worse.</p>
<p>Scott had turned back to look at Liam, giving him a stern look but silently thanking him for trying. He continued his questioning, turning to Marisol once again, “Do you know how Beacon Hills got its name?”</p>
<p>“Uhhh should I?” Marisol looked around at the others, noticing how none of them were really looking at her, save for Stiles who continued to stare her down.</p>
<p>“No, I guess not.” Scott chuckled lightly. “See...Beacon Hills is known for being just <i>that</i>--a beacon.”</p>
<p>“A beacon for what?”</p>
<p>“For people who are different...It...it sort of calls to them, draws them to the town.” Scott tried his best to explain but found himself fumbling for the right words. “And well...if <i>you and Aurora</i> were drawn here...well then maybe…”</p>
<p>“Wait, what does this have to do with being friends?” Marisol interrupted, confused but also concerned with where the conversation was going. “What do <i>beacons</i> and being different have to do with anything?”</p>
<p>“It’s just that, uh, things are...a little <i>different</i> within our group…” Scott hesitated, looking around at the others for some support, and hoping that one of them would chime in.</p>
<p>“What Scott is trying to say…” Lydia took over, turning to face Marisol. “We aren’t exactly the most <i>conventional</i> of high school students...and that gets us in <i>trouble</i> sometimes.”</p>
<p>“Trouble?” Marisol asked, though she had guessed what they were getting at. They were trying to tell her about themselves--to bring her into the pack, make her one of them, or at the very least, let her decide if she wanted to be.</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t...exactly call it trouble…” Mason spoke up, a slight smirk on his face. “I think the real word to use is...<i>danger</i>.”</p>
<p>The rest of the pack turned to look at him, on each face a silent expression that told him to shut his mouth. Mason had been the only one to vouch for Marisol aside from Scott. Even if it was true that she was a werewolf, he’d defended her, saying that she probably had reasons for why she kept a secret, reminding them how long they kept the supernatural secret from him, and that she didn’t seem like the type of person to turn out evil.</p>
<p>“Look, I think what Scott and Lydia are getting at is that...we aren’t like other people.” Kira looked directly at Marisol, daring her to speak up--nod her head or smile, anything to show them that she understood what they were talking about. But she stayed quiet. She knew that she ran the risk of exposing herself if she seemed to grasp what they were saying too quickly, but she also ran the risk of them already knowing about her and all of this being nothing more than a test.</p>
<p>“What I’m getting at is... we <i>want</i> you to join our group--be our friend, but...some of us need more convincing than others.” Scott walked over to Marisol and took a seat on the coffee table in front of her. “So...I need to ask you right now...is there anything about you that we should know?”</p>
<p>Marisol froze. This was it. This was the moment of truth for her. She had to tell them the truth, even if Aurora wasn’t here. To tell them what they were and why they’d kept it a secret. She could feel all eyes on her, watching and waiting for her to tell them what they already knew. And yet, her mouth remained shut.</p>
<p>“Marisol...please.” Scott pleaded with her softly.</p>
<p>“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Stiles turned toward her from his spot in the corner, a hateful look in his eyes. “We know you’re a werewolf!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The shit has hit the fan.</p>
<p>Announcements!!<br/>1. Bearhands and I would like to give a huge thank you to all of you who have continued to come back and read our story.<br/>2. Don't worry we are not stopping, but we are going to take a break after next week's chapter.<br/>When we first started posting, we had a nice backlog of already finished chapters to act as a bumper as we write out new chapters. That bumper is gone and tbh it's been a struggle to find time to write, making sure we have a chapter each week for you, especially with jobs and other responsibilities.<br/></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Chapter Thirty Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Welcome to our mid-season finale where truths are finally revealed, and yet you will probably leave with more questions than answers!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HANG ON, IT'S GOING TO BE A BUMPY RIDE! All joking aside, this is it, what Bearhands and I have been working up to for the past 'I don't even know because time during quarantine does not exist' days/weeks/months. We have diligently posted a chapter for all you lovelies for the past thirty five weeks. THIRTY FIVE WEEKS! We are proud at how much our little story and characters have grown.</p><p>Trust us when we say we are going to continue working just as hard to write out the second half of the story which will at least take us up to the beginning of Season Six. We haven't completely decided if we want to continue through the season, or perhaps move onto another project that's been brewing behind the scenes.</p><p>And now, onto the chapter, maybe have a few tissues within reach?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Stiles, we talked about this.” Scott pleaded.</p><p>“No, you talked and obviously she’s not going to come out and say it.” Stiles turned to glare at Marisol, “I mean you weren’t, were you?”</p><p>Without giving her a chance to reply he stalked forward, making his way toward her, hoping to intimidate her into giving them some answers. They’d waited long enough and after what his father had come up with in his search, he was more sure than ever that she was a threat to their pack.</p><p>Scott stood up and put himself between him and Marisol, preventing Stiles from going any further. “This isn’t how we agreed to handle this.”</p><p>“I’m trying to protect us Scott!” Stiles whispered harshly. “That’s all I’ve ever done.”</p><p>Marisol was still sitting, shocked at how the two friends were arguing over her. This wasn’t right, it shouldn’t have come to this. <i>Why didn’t Aurora listen to her and reach out sooner</i>? She tried to speak up, say something, anything, but every time she opened her mouth nothing came out. She was paralized, stuck as she watched Scott and Stiles go back and forth, their voices rising as their anger and frustration did. Suddenly another body was in front of her, blocking her view of the boys--Malia stood before her, arms crossed over her chest as she looked her straight in the eye.</p><p>“Is it true?” Malia asked. “Are you a werewolf?”</p><p>Everything fell silent as all eyes turned to the two girls. Marisol looked down at her hands, fingers twisting at the edge of her shirt, fear and shame eating away at her. A gentle touch brought her out of her thoughts as Malia took hold of her hands and kneeled down in front of her, looking up into her face.</p><p>Malia waited until Marisol looked back at her and repeated the question, “Marisol, are you a werewolf?”</p><p>The sound of her name leaving Malia’s lips finally made Marisol react. She nodded slowly and swallowed the cry that threatened to escape her as Malia dropped her hands and backed away from her. Malia rushed to stand up and move away from her, her voice thick with betrayal as the question left her mouth in a gruff whisper, “You lied to me?”</p><p>Marisol stood up shakily, unable to look at Malia. She held her apology at the tip of her tongue, but before she could speak up, she found herself confronted by Stiles who had used the distraction to maneuver around Scott and was now standing in front of her.</p><p>“She’s not just a werewolf...she’s a werewolf with blue eyes.” Stiles took a step closer towards her, “We all know what that means...she’s taken an innocent life.”</p><p>“That doesn’t mean anything Stiles…” Kira interrupted, standing up for their new friend, despite the betrayal she’d also felt at learning the truth. “...Malia has blue eyes.”</p><p>At the mention of her name, Malia turned to glance at Marisol who stood looking at the floor, her hands in tight fists. It was true that she didn’t believe Marisol to be a killer, but she could not forget the fact that she had kept the truth about herself a secret--from her of all people. Yeah, they’d really only just met, but Malia had really felt a bond with the girl--she <i>trusted</i> her.</p><p>“That may be…” Stiles continued, his eyes never leaving Marisol. “But we <i>know</i> Malia--we know her story...what do we really know about Marisol?”</p><p>“She doesn’t owe us a story, Stiles.” Lydia intervened, speaking up for the first time that night. She’d remained quiet for the most part, trying to decide what it was she felt about the situation at hand. In the last five minutes, she’d decided she felt bad for Marisol--for the way things seemed to be unfolding and how she seemed unable to handle the weight.</p><p>“The hell she doesn’t.” Stiles stepped closer to Marisol, feeling his rage build as she continued to look at the floor, staying silent. “She shows up out of nowhere, weasels her way into the group, all the while <i>masking her scent</i>--you think she didn’t know what <i>we were</i>?!</p><p>“You lied to us...and I want to know why.” Stiles finally directed his words at her. “What were you looking for? Another pack to destroy? Another pack to kill and leave behind? Is that what you did? You killed your pack? You and your <i>‘cousin’</i>?”</p><p>“We didn’t kill anyone.” Marisol said assertively. “I am <i>not</i> a murderer!”</p><p>“Who was it then? Huh?” Stiles pressed forward, each step closer to Marisol more menacing than the one before. “Was it the first pack that was massacred? Someone in the second pack?”</p><p>“I didn’t…” Marisol shook her head, her breaths becoming shallower as her head began to spin. She was helpless as she stumbled backwards into a wall, Stiles hovering over her, his eyes piercing hers. She looked to Malia for some kind of help or support, but her face was turned away from Marisol, refusing to look at her. The others stood around her and Stiles, each watching intently as the scene unfolded before them--some of them looking straight at her, while the others watched the back of Stiles’s head. Marisol looked to Scott who hadn’t left the spot where he’d been arguing with Stiles, who hadn’t made a move to help her. It was then that she understood--she had overestimated her place in this group of friends--had trusted them too soon, then betrayed them and turned them against her.</p><p>“You don’t understand...you don’t know the whole story.” She pleaded, frightened of the boy in front of her. Wishing more than anything that she could go back in time, tell them the truth from the start. Stiles wasn’t swayed by the tears that welled up in her eyes, as she looked up at him, begging for him to hear her out.</p><p>“You’re right, we don’t. So why don’t you enlighten us, Marisol?” Stiles pressed on, his voice quiet but his tone dangerous. “Was it your parents? Did you kill your parents?”</p><p>Suddenly, the eyes that Stiles had been so desperate to see appeared. Marisol stared up at him, her eyes glowing bright blue and her brow furrowed deeply. She growled loudly as she pushed Stiles back with her forearm, flipping them around and pinning him to the wall, so that he was the one with nowhere to run. Her words came out in a gruff and sorrowful whisper, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p><p>Stiles watched as all the tension slowly left her body, feeling it as he slowly slid down the wall, feet back on the ground, but her eyes never left his. Her hand still gripped his shirt tightly at the collar and her arm remained pressed against his chest, but her eyes--the resentful anger was now replaced with a deep sorrow and an even deeper guilt--tears flooding both of them and falling freely down her cheeks.  They stood there staring at each other and Stiles understood then, that perhaps she was right. He <i>didn’t</i> know.</p><p>Their trance was broken when Scott softly called out, “Marisol?”</p><p>She blinked slowly, backing away from Stiles, before turning to look at the scene around her. Kira had pushed Mason and Lydia behind her, sword in hand and ready to defend her friends. Liam was hunched over, claws out and breathing heavily. Scott was looking at her, his red eyes shining brightly and filled with disappointment. And Malia, she was shaking with anger and hurt, her own electric blue eyes shining with unshed tears.</p><p>Feeling shame and regret, Marisol found herself caught and without any idea how to fix things, so she fell back on the only thing she knew how to do.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Marisol whispered as she shook her head, turning to run out of the house.</p><p>Malia made to go after her, but was stopped by Scott, “What are you doing? You’re just going to let her leave like that, we have to go after her!”</p><p>“No!” Stiles was surprised to hear his own voice say that.</p><p>“What do you mean? You were right, she’s a threat.” Kira pointed out, relaxing her stance, but not yet ready to put her sword away.</p><p>Stiles couldn’t get the last look Marisol had given them all--given him--out of his mind. He’d recognized the look in her eyes. He’d recognized and even understood the pain and guilt he saw in them. They mirrored the same pain and guilt he still felt on long and lonely nights where the images of his past continued to haunt him. He knew then, she wasn’t evil--wasn’t a threat. She was just someone hurt and afraid, and that could have been enough for her to keep things from them.</p><p>Yet with all the evidence he couldn’t deny that there was still a threat somewhere, lingering in the shadows, not too far behind them. And whether or not that threat was Marisol or Aurora, he knew they were somehow connected.</p><p>“Guys?” Stiles called out, trying to get everyone's attention. They continued talking over each other, ignoring him as they argued about what they should do. “Guys!”</p><p>“What?” Lydia asked. “Stiles?”</p><p>“I was wrong.” He held his hands up to stop them from arguing with him, “I know what I said, alright, I know! But it’s just-”</p><p>“What are you talking about?” Liam spoke up.</p><p>“There’s some stuff I need to tell you guys about. Some patterns my dad picked up on when I asked him to run background checks on them…” Stiles sighed heavily. “Look, I don’t think Marisol and Aurora are the threat I thought they were... but we are going to need their help if we’re going to figure out what is.</p><p>“Scott, I made a mistake.”</p><p>“Are you sure about it this time?” Scott asked, searching Stiles’s eyes for the truth.</p><p>Stiles pursed his lips and nodded firmly. “Yeah Scotty...I was wrong.”</p><p>“Alright. I’ll go after Marisol, the rest of you stay here.” Scott pulled on his jacket and opened the door to head out. “Stiles bring everyone up to speed on what you know. I’ll keep you updated.”</p><p>“How are you going to find her?” Liam asked, wondering if he should let Scott go alone.</p><p>“I’ll start at her house…”</p><p> </p><p>Aurora had just placed down three mugs of hot chocolate on the dinner table when an urgent knock came from the door. Excusing herself with a quick nod to Tomas and Canelo, she walked to open the door, surprised but not entirely shocked to find Scott standing there, a worried look on his face.</p><p>“Scott?” Aurora’s voice was tense. “Is everything alright?”</p><p>“I--uhm, is Marisol here?” Scott asked warily, though by Aurora’s tone, he already knew the answer.</p><p>“No...she’s supposed to be with you...Scott, did something happen?” Aurora tried not to sound intimidating, but couldn’t help the threat her voice carried when she asked him.</p><p>“I don’t know where Marisol is...she just...stormed off. It...wasn’t supposed to go that way but, we just wanted to know the truth.”</p><p>“The truth?”</p><p>“We...I...we <i>know</i>.” Scott looked up at her, hoping her reaction would be less severe than Marisol’s and was surprised when all she did was sigh and shake her head.</p><p>“Looks like you showed up at the right time then…” Aurora stood to the side and opened the door wider for him to enter. She followed behind him, pulling out a chair for him and pouring another cup of hot chocolate as he took in their two guests who sat waiting for the same answers he was seeking.</p><p>“Who the hell is this?” Canelo asked disapprovingly.</p><p>“Scott, this is Canelo and Tomas. Guys, this is Scott.” Aurora sighed heavily as she sat down. “Scott is an alpha here in Beacon Hills...and Scott, these are friends of ours from LA.”</p><p>“I don’t know about being friends…” Canelo mumbled as he looked Scott up and down.</p><p>“Hey man, nice to meet you.” Tomas shook Scott’s hand, giving him a once over and trying not to let his 17 year old brain focus on how Marisol had been hanging out with such a good looking guy. There were way more important things at hand than the girl he had a crush on being friends with some hot guy.</p><p>“Yeah, you too…” Scott sat down, taken aback by Aurora’s casual introduction and even more so by the fact that he could smell the werewolf scent coming off of these two. He slowly reached out for the mug sitting in front of him, wanting to give his hands something to focus on rather than just fidgeting with the table cloth.</p><p>“First, I want to start off by apologizing.” Aurora started, looking at the three of them as she spoke. “I’ve kept so much about our past a secret thinking it was the right thing to do--that I was protecting myself and Marisol, doing what was best for us...but I see now...I was wrong.</p><p>“When my alpha, Moira, first told me about Marisol being turned, it was a bittersweet moment. See, Marisol’s parents had been our emissaries for years--and her grandparents before them as well--but they’d always led a secret life, kept away from most members of the pack besides a select few. The plan was for Marisol to eventually pick up the mantle, carry on their legacy and guide our pack in the future...but they’d wanted to wait until she was older--old enough to understand and not feel afraid about the life she’d have to lead...so they never told her...kept her in the dark for so many years, despite the family parties and barbeques we’d all been at--despite all the wolves she already knew and loved.</p><p>“A rival pack somehow found out about her. They were led by a young wolf--he couldn't have been more than 15 when he first showed up--pompous and entitled, demanding a conference with Moira. He’d been trying to get something from Moira for years--something she kept hidden away by entrusting it to Marisol’s parents--and what had started at peaceful negotiations for it, quickly began to escalate to aggressive confrontations. Each time Moira would establish her strength, forcing them to retreat and warning them to cease their actions, should she need to take matters further. They’d quieted down and we’d thought she’d finally succeeded in driving them away, but three years later...Moira found Marisol in the woods, bloodied and near death...a bite mark on her side.”</p><p>At this revelation, the three boys looked up at Aurora, an anger mixed with sadness written on their faces. Tomas felt his stomach turn. The bite was sacred in his family. Most of Carmen’s pack had been born wolves--wolves from generations, who added to their strength, not just as a pack but as family. If anyone was ever welcomed from the outside, it was rare--the bite was only offered to those who needed it--those lost and alone and in need of a support system, in need of love and care. He knew that other wolves turned people for the sake of power, but to hear Aurora say that Marisol had been turned and abandoned, left to find by whoever came across her first--it pained him to think about.</p><p>“Why would they go after her?” Canelo asked, disgust in his voice and on his face.</p><p>Aurora took a deep breath before she continued. She knew that Marisol had told her to tell them the whole truth, but judging by their reactions to her change, she was sure she had made the right call in censoring herself. Now she had only to tell them enough to talk around what Marisol had gone through--enough of the truth without revealing all of Marisol’s pain.</p><p>“They--their alpha--thought...he could use her. If he were to turn her, and if she survived, then she would be his beta...and if the love her parents had for her was strong enough, then he’d be able to take what he wanted from them in exchange for their daughter.”</p><p>“Did it work?” Scott asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.</p><p>Aurora shook her head. “Marisol had lost so much blood before Moira got there...he must have thought she was dead...It wasn’t until a week later that he even came looking for her, and by then her bond with Moira was strong enough to resist him.</p><p>“He was angry that he’d been cheated--by his own arrogance no less... after that things started to go wrong…” Aurora closed her eyes, trying to shove the images of her family torn apart and ripped to shreds from her mind. “They attacked us during a gathering. Everyone was there that night...Moira, her daughter Miranda--the kids. The only ones who weren’t there were Marisol and her parents...They’d been worried, you see, after the alpha had shown up looking to claim her, and Moira suggested they take her out of town, fearing he’d try to come after her soon...she was right...only, they didn’t just come after Marisol--they came for all of us. By sheer dumb--stupid fucking luck--I had left on a beer run with Moira’s daughter and a few others...by the time we came back...everyone...everyone we knew was dead.</p><p>“I didn’t know what to do...so I listened to Miranda and called Marisol’s parents, asked them to come help--to help me figure out what we should do--what <i>I</i> should do. They came back the next morning, devastated to see how few of us were left...I should have...I should have listened to them when they told me to leave--that we should all leave that evening, start fresh somewhere new and leave this for the cops to sort out. But I was angry. I’d lost so much and I wanted...I wanted <i>revenge</i>. It was my fault you see? That night...I’d dared him to come after me, to finish what he started...only instead of me...he went after Marisol’s parents first. When he came to me, I realized my mistake in thinking I had outwitted him--I was blinded by anger, and it took too long for me to realize what I’d done. I’d provoked him, and in my decision to stay, I’d led him straight to them.</p><p>“I...have moments lost from that battle...most of it drowned in a rage I had never felt before...After I saw Miranda fall...I lost all control and when I came to...I had killed them all.” Aurora paused, letting the tears in her eyes fall freely down her cheeks and she recalled what she had done that night. She wasn’t sure she regretted it, but the weight it bore on her felt heavier with each passing year and with each retelling of their tale. “After I realized what I’d done, I buried the alpha...made it so no one would know who or where he was. Then I went straight to Marisol’s house...hoping to whatever God was out there that somehow they were still alive.</p><p>“And I found her...wounded and bloody, but alive. And next to her...her parents, barely holding on to life.” Aurora hesitated before she told them what happened next. It was a painful memory and she knew the sorrow it brought Marisol to remember it. “I wanted to do it for her...as an alpha should, but she wouldn’t let me…”</p><p>“She killed them…” Tomas spoke up, finishing Aurora’s sentence for her. His eyes were full of tears and his cheeks red and painted with the ones that had already fallen. “That’s why...her eyes are blue.”</p><p>Scott looked up at Tomas, the boy's display of emotion unexpected and overwhelming. Even Canelo, whom he had deemed the tougher of the two, sat quietly with his hands in his lap and his eyes red from the tears he held back. He felt the guilt settle in his stomach. He’d known Marisol wasn’t what Stiles had described--he’d felt it the day they’d met in biology. She was kind and caring, funny, smart and awkward--but above all, she was their friend, and now he felt like he was the one that had betrayed her. It made sense, why she hadn’t told them--why Aurora had instructed her to stay quiet. This wasn’t a story made for everyone to hear.</p><p>“Can you understand?” Aurora looked at him with pleading eyes. “Can you forgive her for my mistakes?”</p><p>Scott looked her in the eyes, feeling the pain that radiated off of her, and nodded.</p><p>“After she laid her parents down...we left...and never turned back...since then we’ve been travelling, trying to find a home and some answers.”</p><p>“What kind of answers?” Tomas asked quietly.</p><p>“About why he attacked that night...I never knew what it was he was after...and why he killed my entire family over it…” Aurora looked down at the cup of untouched hot chocolate that she still held in her hands.</p><p>“Do you think...one of them survived?” Canelo spoke up. “That maybe they’re the ones who’ve done all the killing?”</p><p>“What killing?” Scott asked, confused by the sudden news.</p><p>“I guess there’s some new parts to this story you also have to hear…” Aurora related the events that Canelo had informed her about, letting Canelo and Tomas relate their own story, and watching Scott try to make some sense of it all.</p><p>“So now you think...that maybe they might come here?” Scott was worried.</p><p>“We don’t know...I don’t think we were followed...but then again, we don’t know how they showed up in LA...that is if no one new where you were headed?” Canelo directed the last question to Aurora.</p><p>“No.” She shook her head. “We never told anyone where we went after we left…”</p><p>Her thoughts went quickly back to Fermin. She’d told him everything. After they’d left Florida, she had constantly updated him on how they were doing, but he would have never told anyone else, and now he was dead too.</p><p>“We need to be ready…” Scott sounded determined as he looked at the three of them. “I need to let my friends know everything...but Aurora...I leave the decision to you.”</p><p>Aurora was taken back by his response. He was trusting her to do the right thing for everyone, giving her an out if she wanted one. “No...you’re right...they need to know.”</p><p>Just then Tomas’s phone went off, making everyone flinch at the sudden break in their heavy conversation.</p><p>“It’s Mari…” Tomas said as he answered the phone. “Mari? What’s going on? Where are you?”</p><p>On the other end, Marisol’s cries could be heard, frantic and erratic. Aurora and Scott’s eyes met as they listened in to the conversation, trying to figure out where she was and what she was saying. But before they could hear, Tomas ended the conversation.</p><p>“Okay. <i>Esperame ahi...ahorita voy</i>.” Tomas hung up the phone and stood from the table. “I’m gonna go get her.”</p><p>Aurora nodded and thanked him, tossing him her keys as he rushed out the front door.</p><p>“I’m gonna make a call…” Canelo stood from the table and walked toward the stairs, turning back to look at Aurora and Scott. “I think I might know someone who can help...at least to find out some more about what the hell is going on.”</p><p>With that he went up the steps, pulling out his phone and dialing as he went. It left Aurora and Scott still in the kitchen, each unsure of what they could say. She had just unloaded a lot of information onto him, and he wasn’t sure where to go from there. He’d have to go back to his friends--tell them they were wrong, and convince them to trust him on it until Aurora would let him tell them the truth.</p><p>“Scott…”Aurora spoke up, almost as if reading his thoughts. “I just...ask for some time. Give me some time...and I’ll tell them everything.”</p><p>Scott simply nodded, understanding the position she was in.</p><p>“But...before you go...there’s something else you need to know.” Aurora’s tone was serious, and the look she gave him suggested this was something only he should hear. “It’s about Marisol...but I need your word--this doesn’t leave us.”</p><p>Scott frowned, unsure of what she was about to tell him and what it would mean. “Yeah...of course.”</p><p>Aurora waited a moment, making sure that she could hear Canelo still on the phone. Despite Canelo’s tough exterior, she knew that he wouldn’t be prepared to hear this side of their story, and it was best Tomas wasn’t around to hear it either. She took a deep breath before she spoke again.</p><p>“There was something else that happened, the night that Marisol was changed.” </p><p><br/>
</p><p>When Tomas pulled up to the location Marisol had pinged him, he found her sitting on the curb, her arms hugging her knees close to her as she looked out ahead of her with a blank expression on her face. He shut off the car and walked over to her slowly, “Mari?”</p><p>“Hey.” She responded, her face still facing away from him and her eyes still glossed over.</p><p>“What happened?” Tomas asked softly, taking a seat next to her and leaning forward to get a better look at her face. It was tear stained and her eyes were swollen from crying. Instead of answering she simply shook her head, her eyes welling up with tears again as she let out a shaky breath. Tomas reached out, gently taking her chin and turning her face to him, wiping away her fallen tears with his fingers. He took a gentle hold of her hands before asking her again, “<i>¿Que pasó?</i>”</p><p>“Same thing that always happens...<i>I fucked up</i>.” Marisol’s tears continued to fall as she avoided Tomas’s gaze. “I always fuck things up.”</p><p>“Mari, that’s not true…” Tomas frowned at her, surprised by her words. This didn’t match the Mari he knew--the vibrant, playful, caring Marisol who loved dancing at every street festival. Before him now was someone he didn’t recognize. How had he been so blind to her pain? How had she hidden it so well from him?</p><p>“It is.” Marisol nodded aggressively. “It is true. That’s all I’ve ever done Tomas, surely you know by now--surely Aurora told you how <i>everything</i> is my fault--how I fucked up <i>everything</i>!”</p><p>“That’s not true, Mari! She didn’t say that.” Tomas said, more assertively this time.</p><p>“She doesn’t need to say it--it’s what she thinks, it’s what everyone thinks!” Marisol stood from her spot on the sidewalk, tearing herself away from Tomas’s hands. “I couldn’t protect myself! I was weak and stupid and I got my family <i>killed</i>, Tomas! I’m the reason why we have to keep moving from town to town and why Aurora can never settle down and why everywhere we go, no one trusts us and now you’ve lost your entire family and <i>everyone</i> who ever helped us is dead and I lied to Scott and my friends and everywhere I go, everything I do--<i>I always fuck it up</i>!”</p><p>Marisol’s voice rose louder and louder with each word until she was yelling at no one in particular, but mostly at herself. It was all the pain and anger she’d repressed, seeping out of her in a way it never had before--not during their travels, and certainly not during therapy. It was her truth crawling its way out of her mouth and rendering her absolutely useless against it. Tomas could feel her pain and it overwhelmed him, weakened him to feel it and to see the girl he admired and cared for so broken and worn down. He stood and walked toward her, unsure of how to make it better, of what he could say.</p><p>“Mari...all of that...<i>none</i> of that was your fault.”</p><p>“Tomas…” Marisol turned back to him, her eyes shining blue and a sorrowful look in her them.</p><p>Tomas shook his head, walking closer to her and taking her hands. “<i>Mirame...no</i>. You have to let that guilt go...it’s going to tear you apart.”</p><p>“I can’t…I just...I want…” Her words caught in her throat as her sobs left her body, shaking and violent.</p><p>“What?” Tomas took her face in his hands, cradling it softly. “What do you want?”</p><p>“<i>Quiero mi mamá…</i>” Marisol cried openly, her chest heaving as her sobs racked her body. “<i>...a mi papá</i>.”</p><p>Tomas pulled her to him, holding her tightly as she cried, the heartbreaking sound echoing down the street. He understood her now, could feel her pain as his own--in this they were the same--heartbroken and lonely, with no one left to run to.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We are interested in what you readers would like to read. Would you like to see us write through season six or move on to their next journey with the pack? Comment down below with "my mom does all the grocery shopping" for Yes or "No a body of water, of course a dead body!" for No!</p><p>Just fair warning, if we do, there will be quite a few changes from canon.</p><p>And of course, to be alerted when we come back, why don't you go ahead and subscribe to our story? You could also find us occasionally on <a href="https://riddlesofbeaconhills.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a> where we will also keep updated as to when we think we will start posting again!</p>
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